I'll Be There
by Nikkie2010
Summary: AU During an attack on a Neutral settlement, Prowl is attacked and severely wounded, the wounds soon heal, Prowl doesn't. Jazz needs to find out what's going on before it's too late...(full summary on profile page)
1. Chapter 1

**I'll be There**

Explosions rattled the battlefield as debris and shrapnel flew in all directions. Cybertronians were shouting, screaming, running in confusion while missiles tore into the already broken landscape, wrecking and scarring it without mercy.

Overhead the shrill engines of deadly seekers whistled through the air as they flew in formation, zeroing in on targets and releasing an armada of bullets, missiles and bombs, destroying everything in their path in a bright orange fireball.

Prowl dove inside an abandoned, smoking building to avoid a new barrage of firepower from the seekers. Prowl looked around the empty building, his spark pulsing wildly. He inhaled air deeply to cool his racing systems, wishing that it had not been necessary to separate from his group. However, the Autobots were pinned down by the seekers, and it had left him no choice but to scatter his small group to avoid detection by the seekers. He had to find his group. As scattered as their forces were and as desperately as the Neutrals needed them, it was too dangerous for them to find him. He briefly thought of calling Jazz for back-up, then decided against it as seeker engines closely whistled by. Prowl spared a glance at the carnage outside, grimacing as his optics fell on lifeless frames scattered over the once peaceful haven.

_Clang_

Prowl spun around, aiming his acid-pellet gun at the source of the sound. _Nothing._ Prowl kept his optics focused and flexed his doorwings, expanding his sensory field to catch even the slightest movement or faintest spark signature. He remained frozen for a few clicks before relaxing slightly, then turned his attention once more to the battle raging outside.

The Autobots were barely holding their own. This was not a normal battle situation, this was a rescue mission. Their main priority was to save the Neutrals still alive and only then to battle the Decepticons and defeat them or at least force them into a retreat, however temporary. At this stage in the battle, the Autobots were doing neither.

He activated his battle computer and furiously computed the chances of gaining the upper hand. He sighed in frustration at the results. The percentages for obtaining the upper hand were nearly non existing, barely reaching into the double digits. That left only one viable option that would save most of their lives and that of the Neutrals': they had to retreat. He balled his hand into a fist and hit the floor, dragging air slowly into his vents to compose himself.

::Optimus Prime, sir, we have to call a retreat. The Decepticons outnumber us and the only way to ensure the lives of the Neutrals at present is by retreating. I recommend a retreat through Delta sector on the eastern boundary as the most viable option at present.:: he desperately commed his commander.

Prowl quickly scanned his surroundings and tried to determine the best route to proceed to a more accessible and preferably stable location. In the background he faintly made out the sound of seeker engines returning.

He ducked, covering his helm with his arm as another missile suddenly slammed into his hiding place, rattling the already flimsy structures to its foundations. The building wasn't going to last much longer, and the seekers seemed to have locked in on to his location.

:: Acknowledged Prowl, what is your current location?:: his comm. came to life with the baritone voice of their leader. _Impeccable timing, sir._ Prowl thought wryly.

::My current location is 4 clicks north-east of rendezvous point A, co-ordinates 4.3"3.3'. I'm currently pinned to my position and taking fire from seekers::

::Ah'm close to ya position, Prowler, I'll meet you there:: Jazz's concerned voice cut in over the comm. lines.

Another two missiles hit precariously close to Prowl's position. Prowl briefly caught a glimpse of three seekers and noted with relief that it wasn't the lead trine. Yet with his attention focused on the seekers, he failed to notice the dark shadow quietly stalking towards him from behind.

Prowl watched the seekers circle to come in for another round.

:: Negative Jazz, I'm receiving severe fire you would only en –…:: Prowls voice cut off immediately only to be replaced by the ominous sound of white static.

:: Prowl?:: foreboding static answered Jazz. _Frag._ :: Prowl do ya read me? Report slag it!:: the saboteur shouted into his comm., his voice laced with worry and panic as the lines stubbornly remained silent.

::Prime, can you get a hold of Prowl through yer comms?::

:: Negative. Autobots, fall back and cover the Neutrals. Jazz, head to Prowl's position, and Ratchet, stand by for medical assistance.:: Optimus ordered as they began their retreat.

:: Copy that Prime.:: Jazz said as he darted between the debris, shrapnel and flames as he headed towards Prowl's position, all the time trying to comm. him. _Damn it Prowler just answer yer fraggin comm. line! _He thought frantically, fear for his friend persistently gnawing at the bottom of his spark.

Jazz ducked behind a crumbled wall as he scanned the area for spark resonances. The fight was moving towards the east, drawn after the retreating form of the Autobots. Jazz's scanner beeped as it picked up a familiar spark resonance and the heavy feeling in his spark lifted, until he noted the read-out strength. That wasn't good.

He bolted towards a blazing building, ducking into the smoke as it enveloped him in smouldering darkness.

"Prowl! Where are ya?" he shouted into the inferno. He coughed as smoke was dragged into his ventilators, clogging his filters and irritating his sensitive system. He quickly closed his ventilators, hoping that he didn't overheat in the time it took him to find Prowl.

He glanced around the blazing structure, according to Prowl's spark signature, he ought to be in this spot. He took a few cautious steps forward and ran his scanners again. Jazz cursed as the heat messed with his infrared scanners. He had to find Prowl, and fast. He stepped forward and abruptly stumbled over something, cursing he turned around to shove the offensive piece of debris. He froze as icy tentacles rapped themselves around his spark as he gazed at what had caused him to fall. It was a frame he would recognise anywhere.

"Prowl!" He gasped as he turned the frame around. The building chose that moment to give its death throes. It creaked and groaned as it started shaking around Jazz. _Slag couldn't ya wait 5 clicks?_ Jazz hoisted Prowl's limp frame over his shoulder and darted out of the building into the broken street, just as the building shrieked and collapsed in a heap of sparks, twisted metal and bellowing black smoke.

Jazz opened his ventilators to suck in clean air into his overheating engine. Kneeling on the ground, he gently laid the unconscious tactician down. Jazz scanned the perimeter to ensure no seeker or ground-bound Decipticon was in the vicinity before turning his attention to his unconscious friend. He nearly closed his vents again as he saw his friend's mutilated frame.

Deep claw marks decorated his chest, abdomen and back. He was missing a doorwing, while the other one was so mutilated it was hard to determine its true form even as energon slowly dripped from the fresh wounds. His scarred arms also showed signs of close-quarters combat. _At least ya put up a fight. _Jazz thought as he scanned the surroundings once again.

:: Ratchet, Prowl's wounded, bad. Ah'm gonna need help evacuating him.::

::Copy that. Arielbots are inbound and will be here in ten breems. Once we have the fraggin seekers off our tailpipes, I'll be able to come in on the medical shuttle. Keep him stable till then. Ratchet out.::

:: Copy, Jazz out.:: Jazz gave an exasperated sigh. He didn't know if Prowl _had_ ten breems without a proper medic attending to him. Jazz thought as he started field repairs, painfully aware that it was sadly inadequate for Prowl's level of injuries. He quickly clamped the energon lines in Prowl's neck and chest to ensure the tactician didn't bleed out, though Jazz's scans indicated that the tactician was already dangerously low on energon.

"Prowl, can ya hear me?" Jazz gently shook the black and white. A soft groan escaped Prowl, but his opticts remained off-line. "Hang in there Prowler, Ratch's coming." Jazz said as he gently laid a hand on Prowl's head, looking at the slack faceplate before him.

Dancing flames from the buildings around them cast an eerie glow over the tactician, accentuating the slash marks over his frame and highlighted the leaking energon. Somewhere behind Jazz another building groaned and collapsed, mixing small metallic particles with dark smoke clouds as it rapidly expanded towards Jazz and Prowl. Jazz threw himself over Prowl to protect him from the debris. He had to get to a more accessible area if the shuttle was going to land close to them.

Jazz gently lifted Prowl into his arms, mindful of his injured doorwing. Prowl moaned weakly as Jazz's movements jostled him. "Sorry Prowler, but Ah gotta move you. Just hang in there." In the background he could still make out the sound of gunfire and muffled cries as the battle raged, but it was fading in intensity. A more welcoming sound of an approaching shuttle greeted Jazz's audios as the large shuttle manoeuvred its way towards their position.

:: Jazz, can you get to a clearer area, the shuttle can't land with all the smoke and debris.::

:: Already on my way Ratch, co-ordinates 4.6"4.0'.::

Jazz reached the area just as the shuttle's hatch opened, allowing Ratchet to bolt from the cargo area towards the saboteur. Ratchet didn't wait as he plunged his interface cable into Prowl's neck port, cataloguing the damages as they appeared. Ratchet let loose a string of Cybertonian curses that would have put the most hardened Decepticon to shame.

"Quick, get him into the hold. I need to start an energon transfusion ASAP."

The moment they were in the hold the shuttle took off, heading straight to Iacon base. Ratchet was hastily connecting energon transfusion lines to Prowls arms while Jazz strapped him to the gurney. They worked in silence, the only noise the hum of the shuttles engines as the pilot pushed the engines to the maximum to reach Iacon.

The hull was eerily silent as Jazz looked around at the other patients. Most were unconscious and hooked up to machines. Jazz briefly glanced at Ratchet. He would have preferred Ratchet cursing. The mech was currently leaning over Prowl, examining the wounds to his chest, abdomen and back.

"So…he's gonna be alright ain't he?" Jazz ventured quietly, his own wounds started registering on his systems, but he paid them no heed. He couldn't take his optics off of Prowl. Jazz clutched at the gurney to steady himself. He should have been there with his partner. He promised Prowl he would always be there to watch his back. And yet he had failed.

A hand on his shoulder made him look up into concerned optics. "The wounds are deep, energon loss severe, but I believe he'll pull through. Are you feeling ok? You look like slag." Ratchet stated.

Jazz shuttered his optics and dragged in a ragged breath, releasing it out slowly as he nodded his head. "Yeah I'm ok Ratch. You just take care of Prowler."

With a curt nod and a knowing look, Ratchet turned back to Prowl, and to Jazz's ultimate relief, began cursing as he cleaned the wounds.

As the shuttle lifted towards Iacon, four sets of red optics glinted in the aftermath of the battle, staring after the shuttle.

"I still think we should just have killed the Autodolt. Would have been better." Frenzy grumbled next to Soundwave.

"Objective: completed. Second phase: initiated. Ravage, Laserbeak, Frenzy: Return to base."


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! Didn't expect the attention this fic got, but loved every tini-tiny bit of it! :D

SPECIAL thanks goes to my reviewers – **ZoeythePinkNinja, BeautifulNightMare95, Yami-Yugi3, EternityElessedial and iNsAnE nO bAkA. **You people are _THE BEST!_ My sincerest thanks also to ALL of you who added this story to their favourite and follow lists! You people are such an inspiration!

Disclaimer – I do not own Transformers or any of their characters.

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**I'll be There (2)**

Prowl onlined his optics painfully. Everything was white, the light far too bright for his optics as he shuttered them again momentarily with a small moan. He frowned. Where exactly was he? He slowly on-lined his optics again, this time to be greeted by an old, scowling face looming dangerously close to him, way too close for his comfort. Prowl winced as he tried to move away.

"Good, I see you are finally online _and_ coherent. Took you long enough you fragger." The old, grouchy voice scolded. Prowl tried to focus on the voice. It was vaguely familiar, but his processor was reacting unusually slow. Instead of hurting his processor anymore than it already was, he glanced around at the chaos and noise in the room.

The room was a hive of activity. Mechs were down on the floor or lying in berths, some thrashing others lying deathly still. Screams of pain were intermingled with loud sobbing while medibots ran from patient to patient, administering medicine or simply cleaning and covering wounds. Machines sounded in the background as it intermingled with the curses and screams of various mechs. Slowly Prowl's mind started piecing together the facts laid before him. He was in Iacon medical facility. But how, or rather why was he here.

It suddenly came rushing back to Prowl like an unstoppable tide slamming full-force into him –the battle, the blazing building, the chocking smoke, screeching seekers, the sudden pain and then nothing. Prowl groaned again as his processor felt like bursting through his helm. He rebooted his systems, hoping it would sooth his battle computer and logic centre.

"How long have I been offline?" Prowl managed to ask weakly. Hopefully he hadn't been offline for too long, he needed to finish a report of the battle for the Prime as soon as he was released from medbay. He tried to sit up only to gasp in pain as his sensor grid shot fire through his frame, warning signs popping up in his vision, informing him of his foolish actions. He sank back onto the berth, gritting his denta as the pain subsided.

"Lie still slag it. I don't want to redo everything I did," Ratchet hissed at him, pushing him flat onto his back, and not being too gentle about it either. "Had to replace one of your doorwings, and you had some plating and rewiring done. Your systems are still sensitive, but I'm worried about your processor." Ratchet leaned over Prowl again as he shone a bright, white light into his optic. "Reflexes appear to be normal though," he grumbled more to himself.

At that moment the doors to the medbay hissed open as a lithe, silver mech came ambling into the chaos heading straight for Prowl. Relief flooded the saboteur as ice blue optics turned wearily towards him.

"Prowl, good to see you're up mech." He smiled warmly. Ratchet frowned amd threw him a look that clearly threatened '_upset him, and I will dismantle you.'_ Jazz ignored him. Seeing as Prowl was up, well awake at least, suddenly made his orn a damn size better, and not even the notorious Hatchet was going to intimidate him today.

Prowl's faceplate remained blank even as his optics momentarily lit up at the sight of Jazz. Jazz caught the slight change in Prowl's optics, his grin threatening to split his face in two. He sauntered over with the nonchalance of somebody who owned the place, but kept well clear of Ratchet. He came to a halt at Prowl's head.

"So, how ya feeling?" he asked, his melodic voice tainted with exuberant joy as he looked at his best friend. Most of the damage had been repaired, but the tactician still looked exhausted.

"I am functional. Thank you. Will you please inform me of the duration of my stay in the med bay as Ratchet has not yet answered my question," Prowl replied, raising his voice as he spoke to be heard above the noise coming from the room. He hissed in pain as Ratchet twisted something inside his frame. Jazz grimaced as he watched Ratchet. It almost looked like the medic enjoyed doing that. Jazz shook his head. Better not toy with the devil today. Ratchet was in a foul mood thanks to the Decepticon attack on another neutral settlement earlier and, due to the carnage they had left, his consequent lack of recharge.

"You've only been here for littl' over an orn. Ain't that long. Turns out yer wounds weren't so bad once Ratch and Aide patched ya up and ya had enough energon cycling through ya." Jazz replied nonchalantly with a shrug from his handsome shoulders. He didn't inform Prowl that it had been a close call, seeing that the slash marks on his chest were only millimetres above his sparkchamber and had caused some internal fluids to leak throughout his frame and corroded important wires. Yup, Prowler didn't need to know that.

"Indeed," Ratchet added, "and as I need the medbay for other, more injured bots, I'm going release you from medbay and assign you to your quarters, but I want you to come back here if you feel anything's off. You are also on medical leave until I clear you for duty. I don't want you anywhere near your office. Am I clear?" Ratchet glared at Prowl. Prowl glared back. He wouldn't go to his office, but he could still work from his quarters. He needed to send in that report.

Jazz eyed the medic and the tactician, sensing the battle of wills. And _he _wasn't supposed to upset the tactician? Jazz sighed rubbing his hand over his faceplate. "I'll escort Prowl to his quarters, make sure he stays there." He knew Prowl would probably try to get some work done anyway. The bot was, to Jazz's dismay, an absolute workaholic.

Ratchet nodded. "He will need to have the new plating covering his wounds cleaned. The risk of infection is always a possibility, though if cleaned it ought not to be a problem. I've written pain defence programs that I will upload into his system before I release him from medbay." He moved towards his office to retrieve the programs, leaving Prowl and Jazz alone for the moment.

Jazz looked over Prowl's frame. Ratchet had done a good job with mending Prowl. He looked considerably better than the previous time Jazz saw him. His plating was clean, new plating had been welded over the open wounds, and he had a new doorwing attached, courtesy of Wheeljack. Jazz's optics travelled up Prowl's frame until they rested on his optics. Those same optics were staring hard at him. Prowl cocked an optic ridge at Jazz, who simply smiled in return. 'Just admirin' the view, Prowler"

"Help me up." Prowl ordered tersely. Jazz cast one glance at Ratchet's office, debating the risks before helping Prowl into a sitting position. Prowl grimaced as the pain shot through his frame, before subsiding somewhat. He glanced around the medbay. Sunstreaker was on the berth closest to him, Sideswipe on the one behind Sunstreaker, and as was customary for the two frontliners, they both looked like they had been through the Pit and back. Prowl couldn't put designations with the remaining bots. They did not boast Autobot colours, which meant that they had to be neutrals.

Jazz watched as Prowl perused the medbay, his cold, calculating optics missing nothing. "Another neutral settlement was attacked this mornin', we're treatin' the survivors." Jazz intoned quietly, his mouth grim.

Prowl gave a curt nod. His systems felt as if they were caught in a bog, the more he tried to think logically, the more his thoughts became scrambled. Prowl shuttered his optics in hope that it would clear his thought patterns. Thankfully his battle computer took the reins.

"Prowler, ya sure your ok?" Jazz frowned as Prowl shut his optics and leaned into him. Once again he was answered with a curt nod.

Ratchet came out of his office carrying a small bottle and clean cloths. He looked inquiringly at Jazz as he saw Prowl sitting on the berth leaning against him. Jazz merely shrugged and moved out of the irate medic's way. Ratchet pulled out his interface cable and plugged into Prowl's panel, uploading the medical programs he had written for the tactician. He unceremoniously disconnected once the upload was complete and handed Jazz the bottle and cloths. "Use those to clean the plating round his wounds once a day. If you notice any discharge or rust, bring him back immediately. Now get out of my medbay." Ratchet dismissed them with a jerk of his head in the doors direction, before heading towards Sunstreaker.

Jazz slid an arm around the tactician's waist, helping him to rise. Thankfully the medical programs had already kicked in so Prowl was able to move without too much discomfort. They silently exited the med bay. The corridors of Iacon base were strangely quiet as Jazz and Prowl slowly made their way to Prowl's quarters through the dimly lit corridors. By the time they reached it Prowl was leaning heavily on Jazz's smaller frame, exhaustion clearly showing on his grimacing faceplate. Jazz manoeuvred Prowl into a position that would enable him to deactivate the lock on Prowl's door. Luckily he knew the codes to the tactician's quarters, he didn't think Prowl was capable of giving him the codes at that moment. The door finally slid open as Jazz helped Prowl to his berth.

Prowl gently lay down, mindful of his aching doorwings and frame. Prowl thought back to the battle. The sight of neutrals dying, the smell of houses burning, the screaming, everything came to the front as his memories surfaced, bringing with it all the turmoil of emotions like a strong torrent of water trying to drag him under. Prowl didn't want to think of it right now, yet his battle computer was mercilessly hammering him with memories mixed with facts. His processor was aching and he felt like purging. But still, he had to know.

"How many did we lose?" he asked Jazz, who had flopped down unceremoniously on the only sofa in Prowl's room. If it hadn't been for Jazz, this sofa wouldn't even be in the room.

Jazz hesitated, Prowl shouldn't be worrying about that right now, his emotional centre would only make things worse in his present condition. "Prowl, don't think about it now. We can talk about it later, when ya feel better and all."

"Jazz, I need to know. Please answer my question."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Jazz debated within himself. Prowl was too stubborn to let something just go, if Jazz wasn't going to tell him he'll find some other way to sniff it out, and he wouldn't rest until he did. He cycled air slowly through his vents.

"We lost four Autobots. A lot of the Neutrals also died. I don't know the exact count of Neutrals yet. Lot of mechs got injured though," Jazz said, dejectedly. They had gone out to help the Neutrals the moment they had learned that the Decepticons were targeting the Neutral settlement. By the time they had arrived, the camp was already under fire. They tried to get as many of the Neutrals out of the area as they could, but it was impossible to get all of them out alive. Jazz loathed Megatron a bit more each time he thought of the carnage and the lives that had been lost for no reason other than having decided to stay neutral.

Prowl grimaced and let out a small groan. Jazz shot up and was next to him in an instant. "Prowl don't think about the battle now, yer emotions are too raw and yer still recoverin." Jazz looked at the pained expression on Prowl's normally expressionless faceplate. He briefly he wondered if Prowl should have been discharged from the medbay so soon. He didn't look 'functional' at all. "We did everything we could Prowler. Yer strategies saved a lot of lives. Now, drink some energon and get some recharge. I'll be here when ya wake up and then we can talk about it. 'k?" Jazz said gently as he took an energon cube out of his subspace. He handed it to Prowl and watched the tactician down it.

Prowl handed the empty cube back to Jazz, lying down slowly on the berth. He still felt like purging. Hopefully the energon would stay inside his tanks. Apart from that his processor was not only aching now, it was spinning faster than a newly formed pulsar star. He shuttered his optics. The walk from the medbay had drained him and he felt unusually weak. In all probability, it was the side effects of the medical programs uploaded into his system. He would need to talk to Ratchet about that. Yet it seemed that at present recharge was the most logical path to follow. With a sigh he initiated his recharge programs.

Jazz watched Prowl a moment longer. He raised his hand and touched the handsome yet frowning faceplate softly. His optics were raw with emotion, hidden behind his diamond visor. He had nearly lost his partner and best friend, and the thought left a vile, bitter taste in his mouth. He leaned over Prowl, pressing his forehead intimately against the recharging tactician's, holding it there for a moment.

He frowned slightly. Prowl felt abnormally warm to him. Jazz stood back, scanning the tactician's core temperature. Although a bit higher than the average temperature it still fell within acceptable parameters. Jazz was of a mind to call Ratchet, but the medic would probably offline him if it wasn't anything life-threatening. He scanned for temperature again. It had gone slightly down. _Probably just heated up a bit from the walk._ Dismissing it, Jazz threw a final glance at the recharging tactician as he dimmed the lights and left the room.

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Prowl woke up shivering. He hurt everywhere –his processor, his frame, his doorwings. He tried to get up, but his frame seized, then started convulsing. He groaned through clenched denta as his battle computer tried to take control, but it only caused his systems to go from bad to worse. Warnings shot up in his blurred vision, but Prowl couldn't decipher anything. The room was spinning too fast. The pain was excruciating as it spread through Prowl's frame in icy rivers of scorching heat, Prowl's optics dimmed as consciousness began to flee. He could feel energon running down his chin, feel his hands clench, his body arch, yet he was powerless to control any of it. _Prowl!_ He heard his designation being called from far off, but darkness enveloped him in its cold, merciful embrace as all sensation fled from his processor.

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	3. Chapter 3

AU/movie During an attack on a neutral settlement, Prowl is attacked and severely wounded, the wounds soon heal, Prowl doesn't. Jazz realizes that Prowl means more to him than he thought, but time is running out to save Prowl...

A HUGE thank-you goes out to** ZoeythePinkNinja, DemonSurfer, Daklog73, Fianna9, iNsAnE nO bAkA, Richard'sQueen aka LGFS, Yami-Yugi3, SkylarJolane **and** EmperialGem21 **for their reviews**.** You people are the _best!_ Also thank you to all those who added this story to their favs and follow list! You inspire me to continue writing and updating regularly!

My thanks to **IamStarscream** for encouragement and beta-ing!

Disclaimer…I do not own Transformers at all. If I did…I'd be rich as hell! ^_,^

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The dimly-lit corridors were eerily quiet except for the continues sound of heavy footsteps pacing slowly up and down the waiting area in front of Iacon Medical Bay. A small scuffle was heard behind the golden double doors that hid the medbay from sight. The tense silver frame stopped abruptly and stared at the medbay doors in dreadful anticipation, sensor net flaring wide to catch the smallest detail. The doors slid open to reveal a limping neutral as he was assisted out of the medbay by another. The silver saboteur growled softly and continued his slow, anxious pacing around the waiting area.

"Jazz, cool down. You're making the other mechs nervous," a soft, young voice gently insisted.

Jazz stopped his pacing and stared at the young yellow and black mech. Bumblebee sank deeper into his chair but held the gaze. Even though the saboteur's optics were hid, Bumblebee could feel the fierce glare coming from behind the diamond visor. Jazz was beside himself with worry, Bumblebee knew, but he also knew that pacing like an enraged, caged animal around a waiting room full of weary neutrals who had recently been through the living Pit thanks to the Decepticons was not the ideal way to vent his worry or frustration. He continued staring at Jazz, his big blue optics emanating sympathy and pleading for understanding.

Jazz sighed. He trudged over to Bumblebee and sank heavily into the chair, resting his head in his hands.

"His been in there awhile. I was hopin' Ratch will have something by now." He admitted wearily.

Bumblebee gently laid a hand on Jazz's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "Ratchet's the best medic in Iacon. I'm sure Prowl's fine, he's probably just going through a whole lot of tests and stuff." he suggested hopefully.

Jazz looked at the youngster for a moment, weighing his words. He knew Bumblebee was probably right, but he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling at the back of his processor that something was very wrong with Prowl. He shook his head to try and get rid of the images of Prowl that his came unbidden into his processor. Thank Primus he had decided to check up on Prowl. If he had been a couple of clicks later Prowl would probably have been dead.

The medbay doors slid open as an exhausted Ratchet came wondering out looking for the third in command. Jazz sprang to his feet and hurried over to Ratchet, anxiety written over his faceplate.

"How is he? Did ya figure out what's wrong?" Jazz questioned even before he reached the medic. Ratchet nodded his head in the direction of the medbay and turned to go back in with Jazz at his side. Bumblebee hesitated for a moment before relaxing back into his chair.

"I'll wait out here." Bumblebee said as he saw the medic and saboteur disappear into the medbay. He anxiously intertwined his fingers as he stared around the medbay waiting area. Neutrals and Autobots alike were waiting for any scraps of information about their friends, families and loved ones. He sighed before shuttering his optics as he leaned back into his chair, praying to Primus that the look on Ratchet's face meant only exhaustion and nothing more.

Inside the medbay Jazz nervously followed the CMO to Prowl's berth in the intensive care unit. In the dimness of the ICU Jazz could barely make out Prowl's prone form. Monitoring machines hooked up to him beeped steadily as he lay deathly still on the berth.

"He's in medically induced stasis. I've been running diagnostics on him since you brought him in. His systems are still spiking from time to time, but he's stable for now." Ratchet walked around the berth and read the data the monitoring machines were displaying. "I'm going to keep him in here until I'm sure the spikes won't harm any system components."

"So what happened? Relapse?" Jazz asked as he stared first at the beeping monitors then at the sleeping tactician. Prowl's face was as impassive as usual. Jazz wished for a moment that those sharp, calculating blue eyes would open and look at him, reassuring him that he would be alright.

Ratchet hesitated a moment before answering. "No, it wasn't a relapse according to the diagnostics' readouts, but I'm running various scans over his systems and haven't yet received the readouts from all of them. I've also got an anti-virus program scanning him, though as of yet no virus threat has been detected. I've checked to see whether or not his systems are compatible with the pain programs I've written and they are compatible. So that's ruled out." He sighed as he rubbed a palm over his face. He had been doing everything he could think of, but he still had no solid answers.

Crossing his arms Jazz leaned against the berth casting a glance at the other residents of the ICU before turning back to Ratchet, frustration clearly written over his frame. "So in plain and simple words ya don't know what's wrong with him?" Jazz shook his head in disbelief and looked away. He really didn't want to be hearing this.

Ratchets optics narrowed fractionally as he regarded the Head of Special Ops. "Yes. The system checks turned out clean so Prowl's systems should not have reacted this way _unless_ there is _something_ foreign in his systems that's not listed in any of my databanks."

Jazz whipped his head back to Ratchet as he straightened. "So ya saying there's like what a virus or somethin' in Prowler's systems that ain't in yer databanks?" he snapped.

"I'm saying that at the moment that is the most feasible explanation." Ratchet snapped back.

"Can't you just analyse the damn thing and write some kind of antivirus for it? Ain't like you've never done it before!" Jazz waved his hand around the ICU as if to demonstrated his point.

Ratchet gave another exasperated sigh. "Jazz, I don't know _if_ it's a slagging virus. Like I said my diagnostics aren't picking anything up as yet. As soon as they do I'll know what I'm fragging dealing with. But I need some information from you and that's the only reason you're in my medbay." Ratchet threatened, his patience nearing breaking point. Jazz shot Ratchet a heated look before relenting.

"Ok, fine. What do you need?" Jazz asked somewhat subdued, but still peeved voice.

"Did you notice anything unusual?"

Jazz stared at Ratchet incredulously. "What the Pit do ya mean with anything unusual? It's a battlefield for cryin' out loud everything's unusual! And ya ain't really got time to enjoy the scenery with fire lickin' at yer limbs and deceptacons snapping at yer aft."

"Don't get cocky with me Jazz. I'm not in the mood." Ratchet snarled as he pointed his wrench at Jazz, "I meant when you found Prowl."

Jazz covered his visor with his hand, cycling air slowly through his vents to regain some control over his emotions. Venting his frustration and concern on Ratchet was just going to earn him some really painful maintenance and evicted from the medbay. He tried to remember back to the battle, but damn he couldn't think of anything that stood out to him. That just irked him more since he was head of special ops. He was supposed to take notice of his surroundings. But he had been solely focused on getting to Prowl, and then getting Prowl out of there before the structure collapsed. He hadn't noticed anything.

Ratchet continued staring at Jazz as the saboteur's faceplate showcased the warring emotions within him. Jazz finally shook his head as a defeated expression slid over his features. "Sorry Ratch, I can't think of anythin'. The place where I found him collapsed so it won't help me going back to check things out either." He murmured as he turned his attention back the sleeping tactician.

The medic grunted. "I'll continue running my scans on him. Maybe the scans will detect an anomaly in his systems. But if you should happen to remember anything…"

"You'll be the first to know." Jazz finished for him without looking up.

Ratchet nodded and stalked off to check on his other patients, allowing Jazz some privacy. The medic was well aware of the intimate friendship the two opposing mechs had. Being second and third in command forced the two into close working conditions. It was a brotherhood born out of obligation and forged together through war. Ratchet stopped at the entrance to the ICU and turned once more to look at the two mechs. Jazz remained immobile next to Prowl, staring down at him through his visor. Not for the first time Ratchet wondered if their friendship hadn't evolved into something deeper. He sighed and left the ICU.

* * *

The dimly lit ICU was silent except for the soft beeps of sensitive monitoring machines as they vigilantly tracked the vital statistics of their oblivious charges. The silence was slightly disturbed as medical doors softly slid open. A dark figure crept through the silence until it came to its desired destination at the back of the ICU. Casting a quick glance around the ICU to ensure it was empty save for the stasis-locked, berth-ridden forms, it quickly connected a cable to the scanning machines and downloaded the sensitive data, then wiped the records before uploading a similar, tweaked file. It quickly ejected its datacable. _Phase I completed successfully. Now for Phase II._ It smiled deviously as it turned towards the unconscious patient on the berth, tracing his bright red chevron with a single finger before sliding the finger down to his interface panel. He clicked it open and inserted his port, quickly uploading the necessary programs before disconnecting.

The doors to the ICU whooshed open as the dark figure quickly yet noiselessly retreated into the shadows, cursing softly to itself. The dusky yellow CMO wondered into the ICU heading straight for his position. _What's he still doing here at this hour?_ The shadow thought irritably as it slid undetected towards the entrance, keeping to the safe, cloaking embrace darkness provided. It would return when phase II was ready to be completed. It smiled into the darkness as it neared the doors, all the while keeping its cold, blue optics on the untimely medic.

Ratchet checked the progress of the scans, satisfied to see that they had been completed a few breems ago. He opened the files and frowned at the results. Once again they came out clean. He growled softly as he checked Prowl's vitals. Normal. He cursed. The scans showed a clean bill of health for the indisposed tactician and Second-in-command. No spikes, viruses or anomalies in his systems. On the best of days Prowl could give him a processor ache, but this? He vaguely registered the ICU doors opening and closing. He turned intending to drive the newcomer out of his medbay, but stopped short. The medbay was empty. His frown deepened into a scowl.

"Better tell Wheeljack to fix these fragging glitching doors. I don't need this right now."

* * *

Next chapter would have more of (conscious) Prowl and Jazz in it. Promise! _But_ this chapter was important to the plot. Hope you enjoyed.

Please Review! ^_,^


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to everybody who read, followed and fovourited this story. A special thanks to those who reviewed, Ninecrow, SunnySidesofBlue, iNsAnE nO bAkA and Demonsurfer - your reviews are loved and appreciated! :) Also a HUGE thanks to my beta readers - Dragondancer5150 and IAmStarscream. Appreciate you guys sooo much!

Disclaimer: I don't own them at all.

"You're releasin' him from medbay?"

Ratchet nodded briskly as he marched through the almost empty ICU towards Prowl's berth, Jazz trailing at his heals. A young, unknown medic was disconnecting the monitoring machines from Prowl and was preparing to bring him out of stasis. "Yes, the scans came out clean and his systems hasn't spiked once for the past five cycles. Everything else is within normal functioning capacity. There is no reason to keep him here."

"I remember ya saying something similar last time," Jazz intoned, "and if I remember correctly Prowl ended up back here nearly worse off than before."

Ratchet stopped and glared at Jazz. "I am well aware of what happened last time, thank-you, and I've made provision for that. I'm equipping him with a bracelet that will continue monitoring his systems. The moment anything abnormal happens I will be notified immediately."

"Thought you said there was something funny going on in his systems? Now yer releasing him without having discovered anything." Jazz said as he looked at Prowl, then at the young medic working swiftly. The young medic glanced at Jazz as he felt his gaze, quickly ducking his head and turning towards the monitors. Jazz turned his attention back to Ratchet.

Ratchet was eyeing him with raised optic ridges. "Jazz, let me make this perfectly clear. Prowl's welfare is my first concern. I would not release him from medbay if the scans showed even the slightest deviation, but they're all normal. Even the scans running for anomalies within his systems came out clear. However I am not dismissing the notion. I will be monitoring Prowl, and so will you." He said slowly as one might to a stubborn youngling not quite grasping the essence of the message.

"You want me to _what_ Prowl?" Jazz asked incredulously.

Ratchet sighed. The little patience he had was quickly evaporating. "Frag it Jazz. Watch him! I'm not in Prowl's company during the orn, thank Primus for that, but you are. If you notice him acting strange or anything outside of the usual, emotionless pain in the aft he is, you will _alert _me. Got it?"

Jazz nodded as he turned to Prowl. He was disconnected from the machines now. The young white and orange medic was fidgeting around the berth looking ready to bolt in a moment's notice as he wearily eyed Ratchet. Jazz smirked.Ratchet wasn't renowned for his gentle manner with patients _or_ medics under him. It would be a wonder if he ever found a medic that survived under him.

"Jumpstart, is everything ready?" Ratchet asked the medic. Jumpstart nodded as he moved towards Prowl's head, ready to bring him out of his medically induced stasis. He waited for Ratchet's signal. "Come on then we don't have all fragging cycle." Ratchet spat as the medic jumped. He initiated the programs that would bring Prowl back to the world of the functioning.

Prowl's hands began twitching slightly as his systems rebooted. His optics were the last to come on-line. Prowl stared at the roof of dimly lit room. In the medbay. Again. Did he have another crash? Was he injured in the battle?

Ratchet loomed over him. "You up yet ya fraggin' Pit spawn?"

Prowl cocked an optic ridge at him. "In a moment, yes." Prowl shuttered his optics briefly before forcing himself up. He ran a system diagnostic while he gained his coherency of the room. "Why am I in the medbay, or rather the ICU?"

Three pairs of optics turned on him. Jazz shook his head frowning. "Ya don't remember?"

Prowl arched his ridges at Jazz. "I am aware of the battle and that we were ordered to retreat. Beyond that I have no recollection."

"Uh-huh," a deep scowl settled over Ratchet's features. "Nothing even about your injuries? Try rebooting and accessing your most recent memory files." Ratchet suggested. They waited a moment while Prowl accessed his memory banks. Ratchet cast Jazz a weary glance as he folded his arms across his broad chest.

"My most recent memories are of the battle at the Neutral settlement and the order to retreat through Delta sector. After that my memory banks are blank." Prowl informed them.

Jazz opened his mouth to say something, but Ratchet stopped him with a small shake of his head. "Prowl, you have been in the ICU for three orns. You were wounded during the battle and evacuated. I have repaired most of the damage to your frame, but I need you to run diagnostics daily and send me the results. I'm also giving you a bracelet which you _will_ wear. The bracelet will enable me to monitor your vitals. If you feel anything_ different_ or _foreign _in your systems you are to report to me immediately. You are also on medical leave until I deem you fit to return to active duty. Understood?"

Prowl glared at Ratchet, his expression remaining impassive except for his seething optics. At last he relinquished. He gave a curt nod before swinging his peds to the floor. Jazz walked towards him to assist, but Prowl shook his head and stood. "Very well Ratchet, but I hope you will not detain me from my duties for an unreasonable time span as I need to file a report on the battle and no doubt have other important matters to attend to."

"At least he sounds fine." Jazz murmured under his breath as he turned away from Prowl.

Ratchet smirked at Prowl without breaking optic contact. "Jazz, escort Prowl to his quarters. Now." He turned on his heels and marched out of the ICU.

o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl sat comfortably in his quiet quarters reading a datapad. Even though Ratchet had cleared him for light duty, he was to remain at his quarters unless refuelling or going to the medbay for a check-up. He had been confined to his quarters when Ratchet had caught him in his office, finishing the report on the battle at the Neutral camp. The medic ensured through a very verbal manner that he was less than impressed, and hence the confinement. The bracelet Ratchet had given him to keep track of his vitals still sat uncomfortably on his wrist.

A small frown tugged at his brows as he scanned the contents of the medical report, but his reverie was soon interrupted when his door whooshed open.

Prowl sighed as he placed the datapad on his desk as Jazz come swinging into his quarters holding two cubes of energon, a Cheshire grin plastered on his faceplate looking for all the world as if he owned the place. Since his release from medbay, Jazz made a habit of bringing him energon and 'checking-up' on him at least once an orn. It had become a routine, yet Prowl had to admit to himself that he liked the routine. Jazz was one of the few, if not the only bot, he allowed himself to relax with.

"Heya Prowler. How ya feelin' today?" Jazz purred as he flippantly shoved the datapads to the side and perched himself on Prowl's desk. He handed Prowl his cube, sipping his own as he regarded the tactician critically, ensuring himself that Prowl looked pretty good, he seemed healthy too.

"You ask that question every time you enter my quarters and every time my answer remains the same. I am fully functional. Why Ratchet still will not allow me to return to full active duty is illogical and a waste of resources." He leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders gears clicked into place.

"Aw Prowler, he just cares." Jazz drawled mockingly placing a hand over his spark. He looked at the datapads and frowned. "Yer working anyway aren't ya. Well, at least yer in yer room. Reports?" Jazz asked nodding towards the discarded datapad. Prowl looked towards the datapad and inclined his head, gracing Jazz with a rare, barely-there smile, accenting the handsome faceplate.

"Thought Smokescreen was watching yer back while you recovered? Or rather yer work. Think he'd gamble yer back away." Jazz grinned. Smokescreen had been assigned most of Prowl's work during his absence, constantly complaining about the amount of work he had to complete as well as the high standard of work Prowl requested. What really upset the gambling tactician was that he didn't have nearly as much time to complete his favourite past time – gambling.

"He is, but I would rather see to them myself. I have already encountered a number of grammatical errors. I would have to talk to him about that. If he is to take full responsibility for my work in my absence, then I would at least expect him to do it properly and to the correct standard."

Jazz gave a small chuckle at the thought of Smokescreen taking on Prowl's full responsibility and upping the standard even more_. _Companionable silence settled over them as they continued drinking their energon, each settling into their own thoughts.

Jazz cocked his head slightly and contemplated the silent tactician. Prowl sat thoughtfully sipping his energon, a small, barely visible frown settled once again across his rigid brow as he stared through Jazz.

"Thinking pretty hard there Prowl." Jazz stated softly after a few more moments of thoughtful silence, waiting for Prowl to rejoin him in the present time.

Prowl turned his head towards him and raised his optic ridges. "Hmm? My apologies Jazz, I was simply pondering the events of the battle at the Neutral settlement." He raised his energon cube indicating the datapad. "It's Ratchet's report."

"Uh" Jazz responded leaning back. They hadn't spoken about the incident on the field or what had happened after that. Jazz wasn't sure he wanted to. The whole incident didn't make sense. Prowl still didn't remember a thing, nothing had shown on the medical scans, and Jazz couldn't squish the feeling at the back of his processor that they were missing something in plain sight. It frustrated him beyond reasoning that he couldn't lay his finger on it. What frustrated him more was that he didn't know if Prowl was still in danger or not. The very thought that Prowl might still be in danger had been stealing his recharge from him night after night.

"I have read your report," Prowl said after it became clear Jazz wasn't planning on elaborating, "but since you are here, please refresh my memory."

"Refresh your memory?" Jazz asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. They both knew the orn Prowl forgot a report would be the orn Cybertron exploded. Jazz folded his arm over his chest, grabbing his chin in the other and pretended to think over the matter as if it took him an immense effort to remember. "Well, let me see," he said tapping a finger against his chin, "we were there, fighting bad-aft Decepticons, rescuing Neutrals from bad-aft Decepticons, salvaging what was left after bad-aft Decepticons left. Oh and did I forget to mention hauling our SIC's aft back to base in a less than reputable state?" he ended with a large grin splitting his faceplate, pointing a finger at Prowl.

Ah, there it was again, that gorgeous little smile Prowl charmed him with. "That much I know," that same handsome little smile vanished as the tactician drew air into his vents before letting it go "however, would you mind telling me your unofficial thoughts on exactly why that specific Neutral camp was attacked, and perhaps, more specifically why I was also left alive and uncaptured when the Decepticons had me at their mercy?" Prowl had been worried about his apparent loss of data. The information was just _missing_, even though there was not viable reason for it. Ratchet's report had stated the loss of data as 'possible corrupted data due to trauma', but he was concerned that he might have been compromised on the battle field. The possibility hung over him like a dark, storm cloud. He had to know every little detail.

Jazz rubbed a hand over his face, looking anywhere else rather than the tactician who sat determinedly staring at him. He knew that tone, that look. Prowl wasn't going to give until he gave a satisfactory answer. After a moment Jazz gave up and flashed a brilliant smile at the tactician that somehow evolved into a pathetic grimace.

"Nothing special about the camp 'cept for the fact that it was closer to Iacon than usual. Truth is Prowler, Ah don't know. Ah've been askin' myself the same question and just don't get an answer I like. Don't get me wrong ya nearly kicked the bucket twice, an' Ah'm..Ah'm real glad you didn't. But it was an opportunity the Decepticon's missed. And it's been…bothering with me." Jazz ended with a shrug. Prowl nodded. It had been bothering him too.

"Your report, as well as Ratchet's report stated that the Decepticons disengaged in battle shortly after the order for us to retreat. I find this behaviour strange."

"Ah know. Ah'll be honest with ya Prowl there's a couple of things been bothering me too."

Prowl stared at him, the same unblinking, emotionless stare that made it nearly impossible to read him. "Elaborate, please."

Jazz hopped off the desk and started pacing like a caged animal. The more he thought about the matter, the more the answers eluded him. They seemed to tease and taunt him, flipping away as soon as he thought he could catch them, ducking into shadows and doing a hell of a job at evasion. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't grasp it, get to the bottom of the whole slaggin affair. Slag, he wasn't head of Special Ops for nothing. "Well, for one, after you got evacuated, the battle kinda fizzled down and the Decepticons retreated. Of course they took the energon reserves with them, couldn't stop them on that count. They just took it and made a beeline back to whatever Pit they crawled from, not bothering with us at all. And that's what's botherin' me. Ah mean it was the command team fightin' for frag's sake. They had us pinned down. Ah don't get why they didn't push the attack when they obviously had the upper servo."

He fell silent as he held his back towards Prowl, staring at the blank walls of his quarters. The tactician waited patiently for Jazz to continue. He knew him well enough by this time to know he wasn't finished. Tension radiated like heat waves from Jazz's frame, and he was rarely tense about anything. So Prowl watched and waited.

Jazz swirled around and marched back to the desk, grabbing a chair and sitting down with a resigned sigh. He looked at Prowl, thankful for the visor hiding his emotions playing across his optics. He softened his voice. "Even after they got you, they didn't kill you or capture you. Either they didn't recognize ya or they thought you were dead. But Prowl, it's more than that. You were fine two orns after the attack. Ratch' patched ya up good and you were awake. Ah even escorted you to ya quarters. And then you, you relapsed or something'." Jazz looked away for a moment, recalling the memory of finding Prowl in that state. "Ratchet did tests and all that, but ya came out clean, nothin' appeared compromised. Ratch made sure of that. It's been four orns since ya were released from medbay, and ya systems are workin' fine, but there still ain't no explanation." Jazz ended. He looked at Prowl, trying to gauge the other's expression. But Prowl allowed no emotion to ghost his faceplate.

"I see. Ratchet omitted the test details from the report. I will have to enquire about it. If the only reason he has been keeping me off duty is because he hasn't found any satisfactory reason for my 'relapse', then I will need to speak to him." He stated sternly.

Jazz vented an irritated sigh, Prowl was closing down emotionally again. He leaned across the table and grabbed the tactician's hand. Prowl froze at the contact and looked enquiringly at Jazz, before hiding his emotions behind a stern façade.

"Ya nearly died Prowler, twice. And we don't have an answer for the second time. Ah'm worried about my best friend's well-being." Jazz whispered fiercely, he hesitated a moment, "Ah can lose a lot of things in this life Prowl, but I don't know if I can stand losing ya." He abruptly let go of Prowl's hand, got up, grabbed the empty cubes and left.

Prowl kept staring at the door after Jazz left. He absent-mindedly clenched his hand and brought it to his faceplate, holding it there for a moment. He gave his head a small shake and reached for the datapad.

OoOoOoO

A single console stood at the end of the dark room, throwing an eerie green glow across the room, silhouetting a hunched figure. The figure was talking softly over a secured line.

"_Query: mission status?"_

"In-progress. Delayed due to unforeseen complications. Subject is restricted to quarters. Need more time."

"_Answer: unsatisfactory. Do not delay. You have been warned."_

The figure hesitated for a split astrosecond.

"Understood."

The line went dead.

That's it for this chapter. Updates might be a bit slower in the coming from now on as the festive season starts. Also I'm going to be away from my computer for a while, but will try to do at least another chapter or two before the new year circumstances permitting.


	5. Chapter 5

My apologies for the wait, but festive season is always a busy season and I've been very occupied with real life. Sorry about the short chapter, but if I don't post something now, then I'll only be able to post again in the new year, so hence please forgive if it's not up to standard. I had intended to insert a part with Jazz in it, but unfortunately I just didn't have the time. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

Thank-you to all the reviewers and readers! You remain a HUGE inspiration~special thanks goes to iNsAnE nO bAkA, SunnySidesofBlue, DragonDancer154, ZoethePinkNinja and Leradomi.

* * *

Prowl strode purposefully into the tactical division at Iacon base. Ratchet had cleared him to active duty and he was eager to get back to his work again.

He was eagerly greeted by the tacticians in the office. Smokescreen came bounding up towards him. Prowl gave him a stern look, after which Smokescreen immediately reigned in his enthusiasm.

"Welcome back sir." He said as professionally as possible. "All's in order, but if you would like I will let all the tacticians and data analysts give you their own report on the matters presently occupying the tactical room."

He fell in beside Prowl as they walked over to Prowl's office.

"Thank-you, Smokescreen. I take it that no significant events have occurred during my absence?"

"No sir, the Decepticons have been relatively quiet after their last attack on a Neutral settlement shortly after your injury. However, small flare-ups have occurred in the border lands between Kaon and Tyger Pax. We currently have an analyst analyzing the information to see if there are any correlation and co-ordination between the different flare-ups" Smokescreen paused as he waited for Prowl to enter his office code before following him in. The office was sparsely furnished; the only signs of it being occupied were the sturdy old desk and three highly uncomfortable chairs.

"What kind of flare-ups?" Prowl asked as he sat behind his office. He vented slowly. It was good to be back in his domain again. He beckoned Smokescreen to take a seat across from him, which he accepted.

"Small pocket skirmishes mostly for energon. They appear totally random. Codebreaker has been analyzing the information and he will be able to give you a better overview of the matter." Smokescreen said as he leaned back in his chair, shifting to try and find a more comfortable position on the sorry excuse of a chair.

There was a brief moment of silence as Prowl commed the young analyst. "I've requested Codebreaker to join us. I want to discuss this matter as soon as possible. If there are connections between the different events, we need to find it and employ counter-measures against it. I've read the reports on the attacks on the Neutral settlement, and such attacks need to be avoided in the future."

Prowl's office door pinged and a moment later a young, handsome Praxian entered his office. His grey frame was largely unadorned except for his teal blue chevron adorning his helm. He walked proudly into Prowl's office carrying his datapad. He gave a small bow in respect.

"Sir, welcome back."

"Thank-you, Codebreaker. Please be seated. Smokescreen informs me that you have been working on the small energon skirmishes that have been taking place over the last nine orns. What information have you gleaned from these events?"

Codebreaker took his seat across from Prowl and placed his datapad on Prowl's desk. If he showed any discomfort because of the chair, he did well to hide it. Smokescreen looked at him a bit more enviously. That chair was probably more comfortable.

Codebreaker activated the hologram map to show the locations of the Decepticon activities. "As can be seen from the maps, the assaults are mainly in neutral areas between the borders of Tyger Pax and Kaon. The Decepticons have been particularly violent in their attacks on Neutral settlements. The Autobot forces have been called in more often and Neutrals are starting to take refuge in Autobot camps. However, these camps do not possess the necessary facilities or staff to deal with refugees. The energon shortages they are experiencing are being aggravated by the influx of mostly wounded refugees. This makes the Autobot forces in those areas weaker."

"Have provisions been made to move the refugees to safer settlements?" Prowl asked. He studied the maps in front of him, noting the various positions of Autobot camps and Decepticon activities.

"It's been too dangerous to move them. Also, to move the refugees safely would require soldiers we can't afford to take out of the areas due to the increase in hostilities. Simply put, we lack the resources to move them." Smokescreen replied as he highlighted the routes the refugees would need to take to be evacuated to a safer area.

Prowl leaned towards the map, his logic-centre trying to find any form of pattern between the attacks, but to no avail. The attacks appeared sporadic and seemed to bear no resemblance on each other. Smokescreen and Codebreaker waited patiently for Prowl to finish his inspection of the skirmish sights.

Prowl frowned slightly as he looked at the various locations. "What is the time duration of these attacks? Is it possible that they could have been planned ahead of time instead of random attacks on Neutrals?"

Codebreaker shifted uneasily in his seat. "I'm still working on it, sir. The attacks are of short duration according to reports, but very violent. It appears the Decipticons are following the code 'maximum damage, minimum time'. However, they don't seem to be planning their attacks. Some of the Neutral settlements have very little energon reserves, while others have accumulated large reserves. Yet no matter the amount of energon taken, the destruction level remains the same, and no distinction between camps are made." He frowned as he finished.

"And the Decepticon soldiers attacking the settlements? What do we know of them?"

"Sir? They are Decepticon soldiers." Codebreaker replied, not wanting to disappoint Prowl, but at the same time not knowing what else to say.

Prowl looked at him, then turned to Smokescreen. "So you can not inform me whether or not it is the same group of Decepticons attacking these locations?"

Awkward silence filled his office. Smokescreen raised his optic ridges and stared at the captivating ceiling, once again shifting to try and find a more comfortable position while Codebreaker found a very interesting fixture on the holomaps.

"You have not been analyzing the attack groups?" Prowl asked, his voice firm, optics piercing.

Codebreaker squirmed under Prowl's direct, intimidating stare, but refrained from looking at him. "Not many have survived to give accurate statements of the attacking forces, but I haven't gathered significant intel regarding that matter." Codebreaker ventured. He was embarrassed by his obvious mistake and snuck Smokescreen a pleading look.

Smokescreen revved his engine to get Prowl's attention, saving the young analyst from the scrutinizing stare of his younger brother. "Prowl, if I may suggest something?" He asked after a moment.

Prowl turned his gaze to his older brother, giving him a curt nod.

"Codebreaker has been analysing these occurrences from the beginning, and if the possibility exists that there is more to these skirmishes than we first thought, perhaps you would like to review the data with Codebreaker?"

Codebreaker's doorwings perked up slightly at that and he sat up straighter, but still stared at the holomaps, his expression unreadable. Prowl turned his gaze once again on the young analyst, but this time his gaze was contemplative. "I believe that if there are no other pressing matters at the moment I will donate some of my time to the analysis of these cases. However I will expect you to conduct your duties in an acceptable way, without negligence to important factors. You will consult me the moment you suspect anything of value. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the Praxian said eagerly, barely holding on to his professional demeanor. An opportunity to work with Prowl was something he had hoped for, but not believed possible. Prowl was renowned as one of the best tacticians on Cybertron. He was also second in command of the Autobots, and few tacticians, save Smokescreen, was granted the privilege to work with Prowl. He owed Smokescreen big time.

"Dismissed," Prowl said and watched the young Praxian swiftly gather his datapad and leave his office. Once the door closed he turned his attention towards Smokescreen who immediately sprang up and moved to the recently vacated chair. No, this one wasn't any more comfortable than the other torture mechanization he had left. He sighed and tried to relax into the chair.

"That kid worships the ground you walk on." Smokescreen stated smugly, a soft, devious smile cursing his lips. Prowl shot him a reproachful look. Smokescreens smile exploded into a grin. "Stop glaring at me like that. It's becoming a habit."

"I am still his superior and second in command of the Autobots." Prowl stated, leaving no room for his brother to argue the matter. "Why do you not review the information he gathers?" Prowl asked.

"Firstly, I'm not as good at data analysis as you and I've taught him pretty much everything I know, secondly, he's bright. He's been working in this division for three vorns and has excelled beyond his normal duties in both data analysis and tactical planning. I think he will do well as your apprentice."

"I hardly have time to train an apprentice."

"You can train him while you work on these flare-ups. Show him what to look for. Come on Prowl. I know you've been watching him, I've seen you. Besides, it will do you good as well."

"Do me good?"

"Yes." Smokescreen stood up and readied to leave. He had had enough of these Primus cursed chairs. "You need this Prowl. You're too secluded from other bots. You hardly ever socialize with bots; I'm referring to bots other than Jazz." Prowl opened his mouth to reply, but Smokescreen stilled him with a motion of his hands. "Hear me out. You work too hard and one orn when this damn war's over, who will be there for you? There will be no Autobots or Decepticons, no more battle planning, no more fighting. Everyone will go back to their homes and try to rebuild. Who will be with you? To whom will you go?" He paused briefly, his smile playing once again on his lips. "Codebreaker's your type. Give it a try." Smokescreen gave him a winked before leaving his usually stoic, expressionless younger brother gaping after him.

Prowl watched the door close behind Smokescreen. The audacity Smokescreen had to suggest he be anything more than Codebreaker's superior irritated him, but what Smokescreen had said was also true. Yet Jazz had always been there for him. Of course Prowl knew that Smokescreen and Jazz didn't exactly get along too well, for reasons neither of him would tell him, and therefore Prowl was used to being introduced to other bots by Smokescreen. It had been Smokescreen that had first suggested Codebreaker be transferred to Iacon base.

Prowl thought back to the younger Praxian. Smokescreen was right, Prowl had been keeping an optic on Codebreaker. He was professional, factual, and logical. He worked in Tyger Pax's tactical division as head of tactics until he was replaced by a more senior tactician and transferred to Iacon, where he had remained in Prowl's department for three vorns He had never shown any bitterness towards the move and Prowl had respected that. His work was always of a high caliber and always on time and he could be relied on, even though he had made a few obvious mistakes. He was eager to please his superiors and was willing to work extra shifts. Aside from that, he was also a rather handsome bot.

Prowl reached for a datapad, switching it on and idly browsing through the files. Codebreaker's report was waiting on the datapad. Prowl smiled softly. He wondered what Jazz would think of Codebreaker. He should introduce them at a later stage. It mattered to him what Jazz thought of his friends. Not that Codebreaker was a friend, he was simply a subordinate, at present. Prowl frowned slightly. Now that he thought of it, he didn't really have any other friends aside from Jazz. He shared professional relations with all of the Autobots in the command centre and they were all agreeable, but Jazz was really the only bot apart from Prowl's brothers that he socialized with.

Prowl sighed as he accessed the files on the datapad. Smokescreen was right, he did need to socialize with others more often, but the nature of his personality didn't make it easier, neither did the thought of socializing with others hold much appeal. Prowl pinched his bridge as is processor started aching. These matters were too illogical. He needed concrete facts. Shaking his head, he moved the matter to the back of his processor and focused on the datapad.

* * *

Please Review! :) If you think there are areas where I need to improve, please let me know as well!


	6. Chapter 6

Monitor duty: the most spark-killing, dull, I-am- unofficially-punishing- you job in the universe. Bots died from sheer boredom staring at the myriad of monitors splaying the wall on the inner sanctuary of Red Alert's sacred control room. Green lights radiating from the monitors danced wickedly along the interior walls, mesmerizing in their repetitive dance as the light sirens lured their victims to the forbidden valley of recharge.

Jazz onlined his optics with a start as recharge protocols slipped back into the recesses of his subconscious mind. _Damn monitors. Inferno, ya owe me big time._ He thought ruefully as he shifted in his chair, stretching his sleek frame and clicking the joints back into place, satisfied with the popping sounds.

A small, familiar chuckle drifted from the door. Jazz slowly swiveled his chair towards the bot holding energon and grinned a lazy smile at the Primus-sent newcomer.

"They told me you were doing monitor duty. What did Inferno promise you this time?" Blaster said as he walked towards Jazz. He handed the saboteur his energon and took a seat across him, unceremoniously lifting his pedes and resting it on the consoles.

"Who told you it has anything to do with Inferno?" Jazz asked slyly.

"For one, you're not on punishment duty as far as the roster goes, and two, the previous time you were in here for reasons other than punishment was to help Inferno out. So, I ask again, what did he promise you this time?" Blaster asked, raising his optic ridges.

"Com on, my mech, just helping out a friend in need." Jazz replied laughing. He took a big gulp from the pink energon, hoping that it would rescue his processor from the monitor's devious sirens.

"Riiight." Blastered drawled out as he interestedly watched Jazz take another big gulp of his energon. _Poor mech must have been nearly energy deprived._ "Jazz you hate monitor duty about as much as the twins do. Not your style to be staring at mechs through monitors. How long you've been staring anyway?"

"Ah don't know, probably since the new shift rotation." Jazz shrugged off. "Besides, if Red Alert holds true t' his record he ought to be back any breem."

Blaster smiled broadly. "I've got a bet running with old Smokes about those two. Wonder if Red will ever see poor Inferno the same way Ferno sees him."

Jazz chuckled, throwing his arms out in an open gesture to himself. "Why do you think Ah'm sitting here? Ah've got credits to Inferno winning."

Blaster laughed at Jazz, shaking his head. "Should have known it wasn't all about 'helping your friend in need.'"

Jazz leaned forward in his chair, his chuckle fading to a sad smile. "Nah, it ain't all about the credits. It's 'bout helping those two out. Poor mech needs someone to take his processor off these vicious littl' things." He said indicating the monitors, "otherwise we will continually be accused of being spies or assassins."

"True enough. But still, this is torture to social bots like us." Blaster replied.

Both mechs turned towards the monitors and watched silently. Jazz's optics automatically travelled towards the screen monitoring the Head Tactician and SIC's office, staring longingly at it and absently wondering what Prowl was doing. He snorted. He _knew _what Prowl was doing, could even imagine him sitting behind his desk, doorwings held high while reading all those life-sucking, dreary datapads. He frowned as he refocused his attention at the image displayed on the screen. A mech, of Praxian model, stood before the door with two cubes of energon. His optics narrowed as the door slid open and the unknown mech stepped into the office and out of the camera's view. A click later the door slid shut. Jazz continued staring at the screen, subconsciously counting the clicks. Two breems passed and the door still remained stubbornly closed. Jazz leaned towards the screen.

Blaster eyed Jazz worriedly, his optics darting between Jazz and the screen. The saboteur had a way of seeing things other's missed. "What's up mech? You've been staring at that screen for a couple of breems. Something wrong?" He stood up and walked around Jazz, leaning over him to get a better look at the screen, and found himself staring at the empty corridor in front of the SIC's office. "Uhm, Jazz? Care to tell me what's so important about Prowl's office door?" he repeated when Jazz didn't respond, giving him a small prod on his shoulder.

Jazz glanced up at Blaster before turning to one of the monitors. "Ya know this mech?" Jazz asked as he typed in a few commands to replay the scene he had witnessed a few breems prior. He sat darkly staring at the screen as the vid replayed, suspicion clawing at his processor as jealousy slowly sank her claws unbidden into his processor.

Blaster stared at the screen for a moment, then shrugged. "Oh, that guy. Yeah, I kind of know him. Not personally, but Smoke's and I have talked about him. Designation's Codebreaker, a junior tactician recently transferred from Tyger Pax." He stepped back from Jazz and gave him a contemplative look, not totally devoid of friendly worry and blatant curiosity. "Why? What'd you see?"

"He took Prowl an energon cube." Jazz grumbled darkly as he mentally went through what he knew of a mech named Codebreaker, annoyed that he didn't really know anything about him.

"He took Prowl an energon cube? What? That's it?" Blaster repeated, looking incredulously at Jazz. _What on Cybertron was so significant or threatening about that?_ He thought. It was common knowledge that Jazz usually took the tactician energon, but still…Gears grinded to a halt and a light clicked on as his processor stumbled over the sudden revelation. Of course! How could he have been so thick? A small, devilish smile started playing at the corner of his mouth as he regarded his best friend in a brilliant new light.

"Yup, nobody takes Prowl energon." Jazz sank lower in his chair, visor darkening slightly as his good mood quickly evaporated. _Why the slag is he taking him energon?_

Blaster leaned against the console, facing Jazz. His knowing smile threatened to split his faceplate in two, while little devils of mischief danced in his optics. Damn, he couldn't believe he'd been missing this the whole time. Inferno and Red Alert was nothing compared to this brewing bet. "Jazz, I believe you're right. No mech ever takes Prowl energon…" that smile took on a dangerous air, "except you." He said poking Jazz in the side.

Jazz shot his friend a withering look. "What's that suppose t' mean?"

Blaster grinned even broader as he leaned towards Jazz. Optics to visor, he gleefully whispered "I believe you're _jealous!_"

Silence reigned supreme for a full breem as dancing optics stared into unreadable visor. The spell lasted only a moment. Jazz suddenly shifted in his chair, his charisma rising to his rescue as he petted Blaster on the shoulder.

"Now now my mech. Why would I possibly be jealous? Ah'm simply curious. It's something out of the ordinary and it's mah job as monitor bot to note down everything Ah believe is important. Can ya have imagined Red's reaction if he had seen that littl' interlude? He might have thought someone was trying to poison Prowl." Jazz said easily as he leaned back into his chair and ran scans over the other monitors, as cool and collected as possible on the outside while hiding the nagging little voice at the back of his processer admitting that Blaster was spot on. But damn if he'd let him know.

"W_hat_? There was an assassination attempt on Prowl?" A frantic voice asked from the door. Both bots visibly cringed at the sound of the Security Director's strained voice. "Has the alarm been raised? Where's Ratchet? I knew I shouldn't have left! Was it a Decepticon? Was he captured? Wait? Why haven't you raised the alarm? Unless…" his optics shot wide and blue light sizzled between his horns as he looked at Jazz and Blaster, before pointing his shaking finger at them. "_Spies_!" Red Alert shouted as Jazz and Blaster stared stricken at him.

Big, red hands gently rested on Red Alert's shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly. "Now Red, take it easy. We trust Jazz and Blaster, they are both officers. You know that." Inferno's deep voice reverberated through the anxious mech, his servo's gently rubbing up and down his shoulders and arms as the sizzling blue lights lessened in intensity. "Jazz and Blaster wouldn't let anything unusual go unnoticed or unreported. Wouldn't you?" He said looking pointedly at Jazz and Blaster.

Both bots nodded slowly. "Yup, Prowl's fine, I was just jokin' with Blaster here. My bad." Jazz said cheerily as he lifted his servo's in resignation. The last thing he needed right now was Red Alert fritzing and being taken to the medbay. Then he would really be stuck in this slough of despond staring at slagging monitors while some other bot enjoyed his energon with Prowl.

Inferno continued gently rubbing his shoulders, encouraging him to relax. Red Alert finally relaxed enough to stop fritzing. He turned accusing optics on Jazz. "As an officer, you should know better than that Jazz. Monitor duty is serious! All the lives of the mechs on this base depends on it!" he scolded them in a condescending tone, as one would a naughty sparkling.

"You're absolutely right Red. We were just discovering how _important_ monitor duty can be. Never knew you could learn so much about mechs by observing every orn habits." Blaster chirped, cheekily glancing at Jazz.

Jazz ignored him solidly, instead focusing his easy grin at Inferno, who was eyeing both mechs shrewdly.

"Thanks guys. We'll take it from here. Jazz, I'll catch you later for a cube of energon." Inferno finally said.

"Sounds good to me mech!" Jazz said jovially as he sprang out of the chair and headed towards the door, feeling three pairs of curious, suspicious and gloating optics resting on his back as he beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Prowl finished the last of Ratchet's numerous medical reports with a sigh as he laid the datapad on a neatly piled 'finished' stack and looked regretfully at the stack of reports ominously waiting to be finished. His servo automatically rose to his head, gently rubbing his chevron in an effort to dispel the blooming processor ache that has been plaguing him since his shift started ten cycles ago. Usually his quiet, ordered office brought him blessed peace in which to focus on his duties as both head tactician and second in command, yet on this orn he found his focus drifting in and out, having to read and reread datapads before signing them off. He sighed, maybe he should go see Ratchet after his shift. Sighing, he reached for one of the datapads, but stopped short as his office door pinged.

He frowned slightly and checked his chronometer. He was surprised to find that Jazz was early today, about half a cycle to be exact. He schooled his expression before unlocking the door expecting Jazz to come swinging through for their usual routine of drinking energon after shift. A small twitch of disappointment shot through Prowl when, instead of Jazz holding two cubes of energon, it was the young Praxian. "Codebreaker, please enter." He gestured for the tactician to take a seat across from him.

"I hope you do not mind that I brought energon. Smokescreen suggested I do." Codebreaker said politely as he set the two cubes down on Prowl's desk and seated himself.

Smokescreen, that explains a lot. Prowl was hardly surprised since his older brother made it his goal in life to meddle in his affairs, wanted or not. He nodded curtly and accepted the energon cube. "Not at all. I trust that you have acquired the necessary data concerning the identity of the Decepticons attacking the Neutral settlements?"

Codebreaker withdrew his datapad from subspace, quickly scanning over the information presented on it."Yes sir, at least to a certain degree. According to the intelligence gathered, it appears to be the same group of Decepticons attacking the settlements. I have been mapping the attacks and the timeline, but so far no pattern has been forthcoming. It still appears completely random."

Codebreaker had been devoting the last two orns to tracking down all the available information on the Neutral settlement attacks as possible. It had been surprisingly difficult since most of the eyewitnesses were either dead or unavailable to talk to, and the information he could access were so vague as to be rendered nearly useless. It would of course have been easier if he had had access to the Iacon mainframe, but access was strictly limited to officers only.

"Have you mapped out the attacks?" Prowl asked, interrupting the other tactician's thoughts.

"Uh, yes, sir."

Codebreaker stood and moved to Prowl's side, placing a holomap in front of him and activating it, displaying the map and timeline of the attacks. Prowl shifted uneasily in his chair as their energy fields gently brushed against each other. Not that it was an unpleasant experience, it was just, _odd, _to have someone so close in proximity other than his brothers or Jazz.

If Codebreaker shared any of his discomfort, he did well to hide it. The young tactician was in his element as he enthusiastically explained every detail of the attacks, questioned motives, and finally hypothesized his own theories. Prowl tried to focus on the information he was being given, but the stubborn ache in his processor was growing at an alarming rate, threatening to swallow him whole. He absentmindedly raised a servo to his head as he tried to focus once again on what Codebreaker was ranting about.

"…so we need to access the mainframe to be able to identify the Decepticons."

Prowl frowned slightly at that, some of his faculties returning to him. "Why would you need to access the mainframe?"

"Sir, the databases I have been running does not contain any information to the identities of the Decepticons. The mainframe is linked to all the bases and if any of the bases have any scraps of information on these brutes then the mainframe would be able to divulge it to us." Codebreaker said as he watched Prowl.

"Why do you not send queries out to the various bases? Mainframe access is limited to officers only."

The Praxian's doorwings dropped slightly as he looked at Prowl. "Security reasons. If this is something more than just random attacks on settlements, then it is possible that the Decepticons will be watching and waiting for queries. Should a query be intercepted, they might change their pattern or go into hiding. Then we will lose whatever advantage we have." He hesitated for a moment, "It is the most logical course of action, is it not?" The room lapsed into silence as Codebreaker waited for Prowl to respond.

Prowl sat silently, staring at the holomap while still cradling the side of his head, his optics flickering, yet he said nothing. Codebreaker leaned down to look at him, a puzzled expression settling over his handsome face. "Sir?" he prodded when Prowl didn't respond.

The young tactician looked Prowl over, noting the anxious twitching of his doorwings and his unfocused, flickering optics. "Sir, are you alright? Is something amiss?" A small groan escaped Prowl as his fans clicked on, dragging cold air through his vents.

Codebreaker stared at Prowl a moment longer before sliding his arm around Prowl's warm waist and gently aiding him to stand. "I think, sir, that I should escort you to the medical bay." His soft voice was laden with concern as Prowl leaned his weight into him, his vents hitching and sucking air harshly into his overheating, quivering frame.

Codebreaker made his way to the door, gently holding his senior tactician while he alerted the medbay for their arrival. He was about to enter the codes when the door slid open, taken aback by the sight of Officer Jazz standing in the doorway looking unusually pissed.

Jazz's furious expression quickly morphed into one of concern when he saw Prowl leaning heavily on the young tactician, vents heaving as wave after wave of heat rolled off his frame. He quickly rushed forward and slid his arm around Prowls waist, pulling his frame closer and allowing him to lean on both mechs. "What happened?" Jazz demanded as they made their way into the hall and turned towards the medbay, Jazz clutching Prowl a little closer to himself.

"I, uh, I am…unsure, sir. We were discussing information when he just, uhm, stopped talking or responding." Codebreaker stammered nervously, adjusting his arm to get a better hold on Prowl.

Thankfully Prowl's office wasn't located relatively close to the medical bay and the trio reached it in less than a breem. Prowl's vents were heaving hard by this time as his fans struggled to cool his overheated systems. As they reached the medbay, the new medic came sprinting towards them, shooing the young Praxian away as he took his place next to Prowl. Codebreaker silently followed them into the medbay, optics wide.

"Place him on the berth to your left." He directed Jazz. Jazz obligingly led Prowl there, but reluctantly released his charge to the medic. He stubbornly remained at Prowl's side.

Jumpstart immediately set to work, connecting various machines to lower Prowl's frame temperature and monitor his vitals. He leaned over Prowl jacking his cable in to run internal diagnostics, frowning slightly at the results.

Jazz looked around the medbay, searching for the familiar grouchy medic. "Where's Ratchet?" he asked Jumpstart, who was disconnecting from Prowl.

"He is recharging. His shift ended a cycle ago and no critical patients demanded his attention. He is not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary" He turned to face Jazz, his blue optics shown with sincerity coupled with stubborn determination. "Trust me." He whispered.

Jazz eyed him wearily. As part of special opts, he knew that trusting unknown mechs could get you killed, and at this moment, it wasn't his spark on the line, it was Prowl's. Damn if he trusted this mech. They stared at each other, blue visor locked on blue optics; one challenging, the other pleading. Codebreaker watched them for a moment before inching his way towards Prowl's berth as the two mechs eyed each other. He carefully laid a servo on Prowl's arm, causing the tactician to groan with pain as over-sensitive sensors reacted to the touch.

The groan from the berth was enough to snap the two mechs out of their staring contest and turn their attention once more to the ailing tactician. The medic frowned, looked at the machine readings, swore, and sprang to Prowl's side, withdrawing a syringe from subspace and injecting a light blue fluid into his exposed energon lines. The effect was immediate as Prowl's faceplate relaxed and he fell into unconsciousness.

Jazz pressed his mouthplates together and opened his comm. line to Ratchet as he watched the Tyger Pax medic work on Prowl. His visor darkened marginally as he spotted the younger Praxian's servo still on Prowl's arm.

_::What is it?:_ a voice like the sound of grinding gears grumbled over Jazz's comm. line.

_::Prowl's back in the medbay. Overheatin':_ he replied tersely. His comm. line remained silent for a few clicks as he walked towards Codebreaker.

_::On my way:_ Ratched replied curtly and cut communications.

Jazz came to a halt next to the young tactician, who eyed him warily. Jazz said nothing, but deliberately dropped his gaze towards the servo resting on Prowl's arm. Codebreaker swiftly withdrew his offensive servo and stepped away from Prowl, eyeing Jazz wearily.

Jazz leaned against the berth and crossed his arms. "You can leave now. Prowl is an officer and this is confidential." He stated blandly, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

Codebreaker's doorwings twitched nervously as he looked from Prowl to Jazz and back, before shrugging and departing for the doors, his doorwings drooping ever so slightly. As he approached the doors, they swung open and admitted a very irate looking medic, who made a beeline for Prowl's berth. The young Praxian gave one final, unreadable look at the senior tactician and left the room.

Ratchet immediately went to Prowl's side and jacked into him, running diagnostics, much to the surprise of Jumpstart. Jumpstart threw Jazz a menacing look before turning to Ratchet.

"Sir, I've already run diagnostics. His firewalls…"

"Quiet!" Ratchet demanded as he perused the diagnostic results. Jumpstart sighed and stood back, giving the CMO all the space he needed.

Ratchet unplugged his cable from Prowl and turned his menacing glare at Jazz. "Get out! I'll comm. you when you can come play fetch." And with that he turned his undivided attention back to the prone tactician.

Jazz shrugged and walked towards the exit, but instead of leaving he leaned against the wall, well out of Ratchet's reach. He watched in silence as the CMO uploaded programs and barked orders to the new medic, his CPU racing to process the latest turn of events. This wasn't exactly how he had planned to get the young Praxian away from his Prowl. He would have preferred avoiding the medbay at all costs. Yet here he was, staring at Ratchet, Jumpstart and Prowl in the medbay. He shifted uneasily, thinking back over the past orns. Prowl had shown no signs of relapses and was functioning normally, or normal according to Prowl. His check-ups with Ratchet had shown no anomalies in his systems. According to Ratchet, Prowl had a clean bill of health. So maybe this was sabotage. Jazz's mind went unbidden to the young Praxian tactician. Maybe he had placed something in Prowl's energon, or maybe...

"Jazz!"

Jazz jolted upright as Ratchet barked his name. "Yeah, uh, how is he?" he rolled his shoulders, cracking his joints as sauntered towards Ratchet. Looking around, he was surprised that the only occupants in the room were Ratchet, Prowl and himself. "Where's Jumpstart?"

"Told him to get lost, I can take things from here." He nodded towards his office and marched towards it, leaving Jazz to quickly scurry behind him. Ratchet closed the doors once they were inside and turned towards Jazz.

"Let me hear it." He demanded.

Jazz looked at him, confusion clearly written across his face. "Hear what?"

Ratchet's scowl deepened. "What the frag happened?"

Jazz shrugged, leaning his hands on Ratchet's desk, his mind once again racing with every possible sinister scenario. He looked at Ratchet, deliberating what he could tell him and what he couldn't. Not that he didn't trust the medic, but neither did he want to start a rumor accusing a mech of something he might or might not be guilty of. He sighed. "Don't know yet. All Ah know is that one minute he was fine, the next he wasn't. Codebreaker, the bot that brought him in, was with him when it happened."

Ratchet moved to the back of his desk and sank wearily into the chair, crossing his servo's in front of his chest and regarding Jazz thoughtfully. He sat like that for a full breem, scrutinising Jazz. Jazz started fidgeting under the hard, unyielding stare. Finally Ratchet leaned forward and narrowed his gaze at Jazz. "You suspect foul play. So do I."

Jazz was taken aback by the blunt statement from the CMO. He rubbed a hand over his faceplate. "Yep, guess Ah do. This whole thing just ain't makin' sense. It was basically the same as what happened last time, except that this time it didn't get as bad, and someone was with him when it happened."

"I want his report on this incident as soon as possible. And as to this being the same as the previous time, not entirely. The previous time there was no trace of anything in his system, virus or not. This time was slightly different."

Jazz perked up at that, his frame shifting slightly as he adjusted his seating. "What d'ya mean?"

"I wasn't able to isolate the problem or identify it properly, but diagnostics show that his firewalls were reinforced by his battle computer automatically, which, in Prowl's case, usually means viral infection. However, the diagnostics still doesn't register any foreign program, virus or some other slag, in his systems. My diagnostics once again show him as clean. Nothing to even suggest anything wrong." Ratchet said as he leaned back. Now he could feel a slagging processor ache developing.

Jazz took a moment to digest this news, thinking over what he knew of viral infections, malicious or not. He looked at Ratchet, gauging his appearance. "That's odd, ain't it? I mean usually there would be some sort of evidence left, right?"

"Yes, usually. I'm going to keep him overnight, run more in-depth scans of his systems and try to download his battle computer logs, though, it being Prowl, I suspect they will be heavily encrypted." The medic sighed, suddenly looking years older as he thought of his peaceful recharge all but gone with the wind. If it wasn't the twins keeping him out of recharge, it was Prowl. _Slaggers._

"Ok, well, guess Ah'll be going. Got some thinkin' to do. Let me know when Prowl's online again. Ah'll need to write up a report."

Ratchet gave a small, disbelieving grunt as he narrowed his eyes at the saboteur. "You? Write reports? Come in for a check-up in the morning."

Jazz smirked at Ratchet. "Ah ain't _that_ bad with writing reports." He stood and left the office, walking over to Prowl.

He stopped next to Prowl's berth. His spark tightened as he looked at all the machinery plugged into Prowl, monitoring his every function. Taking Prowl's servo into his hand, he gently leaned towards the tactician. "Ah'll get to the bottom of this Prowler. Ah promise."

* * *

"Mission setback, battle computer has detected virus, but I was able to upload necessary programs. Situation is contained." A soft voice said desperately.

"_Advise: no more mistakes. Time is of the essence. This is the second delay. You will face consequences."_

The mech hesitated for a moment, fear ripping through his frame like sharp, deadly claws. "Understood." he said softly.

"_Objective: complete mission. No more mistakes or delays._

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and PM'd me! They are appreciated from the bottom of my heart!_

_Hopefully I'll be able to get back to regular updates now that the festive season is over. If you have any suggestions, questions, or anything else you want to know about this fic, feel free to drop me a line. :D_

_May you have a wonderful 2013!_


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers...**Demonsurfer, SunnySidesofBlue, Phoenyx Starr, Bluebird Soaring, iNsAnE nO bAkA and Faecat.** Your reviews are such an inspiration!

* * *

The recreation room was the spark of social life on Iacon base, where mechs from every sector, field and rank freely mingled with each other. It was always busy, a hive of activity with bots flitting and floating everywhere. Laughs mingled with growls as elaborated stories were shared over cubes of energon, lonely bots found willing partners for the evening and bots made bets about anything and everything for a sufficient amount of credits.

One such popular better was Smokescreen, the Autobot psychologist and tactician. Even though he often made bets, he preferred creating betting pools and taking his share of the winnings, seeing it was much more profitable in the long run. He had already made quiet a small fortune through betting, much to the annoyance of his younger brother Prowl. This, of course, didn't hinder him in the least. As long as betting didn't land him in any trouble or didn't cross any official rules, he was free to do as he wanted.

And so it was that when Blaster came loitering through the door, a Cheshire grin plastered onto his faceplate, he knew he had a good bet coming. The only problem was the nature of that bet.

"Hey Smokes. Good evening so far?" Blaster asked casually as he took a seat across Smokescreen.

Smokescreen smiled sweetly, "Of course, I always have a good evening. Especially if I obtain winnings, or," he took a sip of his energon, "if I can get a good bet." With that he raised his optic ridges expectantly at Blaster.

Blaster chuckled heartily, "Oh I've got a slagging good bet. I'm even willing to place double the credits on this pair than on Ferno and Red, which, by the way, is coming on nicely." He said as he coyly eyed Smokescreen's reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Smokescreen leaned forward, frame rigid with rapt attention and optics sparkling with curiosity. "Keep talking."

Blaster leaned towards him, shooting glances at other mechs in the room to ensure that nobody was eavesdropping. "What if I told you I've got a high ranking officer who just definitively, maybe, or let's say a 95 % chance of having a strong attraction for another high ranking officer, but has some competition in the other's division, with the added bonus that this mech is quite set on what he wants and will do anything to get it. He's also very sought after."

Smoekscreen leaned back in his chair again, his processor furiously working out the odds. "Give me more information on this pair.

"Well, let's just say that the feelings of the second officer are unknown, in fact some mechs even question the existence of feelings, and that's what would make this bet such a roaring success."

Smokescreen eyed Blaster sceptically, a sneaky suspicion of who Blaster was talking about gnawed at the back of his processor. "Who are we talking of, Blaster?" he asked, his voice transferring both his dread and his curiosity.

"Jazz and Prowl." Blaster said smugly as he leaned back in his chair, proud of the fact that he was the one to discover this little twist of events.

Smokescreen stared at Blaster for a full breem, not uttering a silent as the grave and as still as a statue. Blaster began shifting uneasily in his chair, his smile beginning to melt away. "Yo, Smokes, what's up. You stare at me like that any longer and I'll probably end up dead." He tried to joke.

Smokescreen held up his hand to motion Blaster to be quiet. "Are you telling me, that the biggest _flirt_ on this entire base, maybe even this entire planet, is trying his luck with my _little borther_?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft with barely contained fury.

Blaster wilted at that. Frag, he hadn't thought about Smokescreen's reaction to it being his brother and Jazz. "Come on Smokes, they're both mature bots. They can do what they want can't they?"

Smoekescreen sighed in exasperation and looked about the crowded recroom, listening to the suddenly overwhelming voices of various mechs. "This is _Prowl_ we are talking about Blaster. He's not like most mechs here and he's most definitively _not_ Jazz's type. He's the epitome of seriousness and Jazz the epitome of organised chaos! After Jazz drags him to his berth he'll probably just dump him like all the rest of his one night stands, counting him as just another victory. I won't let that happen to Prowl. He's suffered enough."

Blaster gaped at Smokescreen. Jazz wasn't that bad. Rising to his friend's defence, he sat up straighter and held Smokescreen's optics. "This is different. Jazz and I have been friends most of our lives, and he ain't cruel. Flippant, but never cruel. I've seen him with a lot of mechs. I've seen him fall in love and out of love more times than I've ever shot Decepticons, but this is different. I can't tell you how exactly, but I know Jazz. This is something more than just a great night."

Smokescreen sighed again, looking into his energon cube. He quickly drank the remaining energon and stood. "I'll think about it and tell you tomorrow night." He said and strode out, leaving Blaster in the middle of the loud, boisterous recroom.

* * *

Ratchet's office was as intimidating as the mech himself was. Everything was militaristic in nature, from the cabinet at the door to the desk and two chairs. Diagrams of the Cybertronian frame and internals lined the walls while a replica of a Cybertronian processor sat stately on the CMO's desk. Or at least Prowl hoped it was a replica.

Ratchet folded his arms over his broad chest as he scowled at Prowl. "Prowl, I am serious about medical leave. I need you to think what happened. And don't give me that stubborn look I'm not in the mood for it."

Prowl relaxed his doorwings slightly, but still held his gaze. "Ratchet, I will tell you again. I had a processor ache since the beginning of my shift, I had not refuelled, I did not even touch the energon Codebreaker had brought me, and my battle computer glitched, causing my systems to cut out. That is all there is to it. It was as a result of insufficient energy levels."

"Prowl, since the battle, your system's been throwing me slag and I've had enough. I've already told you that I suspect foul play, so unless you give me proper reason to believe that this wasn't, I'm going to report my suspicions to Prime. I know how it looks if your fraggin' battle computer's glitching."

"If foul play was in action, I believe that whoever tried to do this would at least have tried to succeed the first time and would have ensured success at the second attempt. This has been the second time my system has, and I quote, '_thrown slag´ _at you, yet diagnostics reveal nothing and my systems remain clean. What then would you have me do but continue to function normally."

Ratchet growled. He knew Prowl was right. Technically he was limited in what he could do. There was no reason to place him on medical leave, and no evidence to suggest foul play. The most he could do was raise his suspicions with Optimus, and Prowl knew that. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his faceplate. "Young bots." He grumbled to himself.

"Alright, I'm releasing you from medbay, again." Prowl move to stand up, but Ratchet caught his arm, stopping him. "I'm still concerned about your well-being, and I am going to inform Optimus Prime about my suspicions."

Prowl's icy optics betrayed the raw emotion behind his neutral façade as he opened his mouth to protest, but Ratchet cut him off. "Until then remember that you are a valuable asset to the Autobots, and it would not be _efficient_ to lose you because of your own stupidity." Ratchet let go of his arm and pointed towards the door. "Get out. Jazz is waiting at the door."

Prowl stood stiffly and bowed his head, marching through the door, wings held high.

Jazz watched him leave Ratchet's office and mentally cringed at the tactician's rigid sight even as he admired the mech. Prowl's doorwings always fascinated him, especially when they were held high and rigid as now, projecting Prowl's proud Praxian heritage. Too bad the only time they ever looked like that was when he was in a foul mood, or better said, really pissed at someone. Jazz was used to seeing it with the Twins, but not with Ratchet.

Prowl marched past Jazz, ignoring him as if he were an insignificant spot on the wall. Jazz threw his hands in the air in annoyance and raced after Prowl, slowing down when he reached Prowl. Both didn't say a word until they reached Prowl's quarters.

Prowl entered the codes and entered his room, intending to shut Jazz out, but Jazz was faster and placed his hand on the doorframe, stopping the door from closing. Prowl's doorwings rose higher and his optics remained cold, but he said nothing as he waited for Jazz to leave.

"Prowl…" Jazz began gently.

"Jazz, please go. I am tiered and would prefer to recharge in peace."

Jazz's visor darkened a shade as he regarded Prowl. "Too bad. Ah ain't leavin' just yet." He said and slipped into Prowl's quarters, allowing the door to slide shut.

Prowl sighed, exasperated that Jazz was such a stubborn, meddlesome mech. He knew Jazz well enough that, until Jazz got what he came for, he wouldn't leave. His doorwings dropped in defeat as he looked around his room, anywhere except at Jazz. "What do you want Jazz?"

Jazz started walking through Prowl's room, inspecting every nook and cranny. "Ah'm just checkin' to make sure you're alone in this room."

"Baring your presence?" Prowl asked testingly.

Jazz cocked his helm at him and gave him a brilliant smile. "Now Prowler, ya might want to get use to my presence cause Ah'll always be here. Ya have such a magnetic personality that Ah just can't keep away from ya."

Prowl had the distinct impression that more was being implied with those words. He tried to ignore the warmth blooming in his spark and waited until Jazz was done scanning the room before he spoke again, his anger slowly seeping out and making way for exhaustion. "You suspect foul play too?"

"Yip, me and the Hatchet both." Jazz came and stood before Prowl, looking up at him and oddly serious, "You're valuable Prowl." _Especially to me._ He smiled at the thought then jabbed a friendly finger at Prowl's chest. "We can't afford to lose our SIC, besides Ah don't want yer job, too much paperwork."

Prowl smiled slightly, one of those rare smiles that always seemed to make Jazz's tanks flip-flop and send electric sensations racing through his frame. Jazz knew Prowl never let this side of him show in front of anyone else, and the fact that Prowl trusted him enough to drop all pretence just made him all the more special.

"Primus forbid you do more paperwork." Prowl said, vaguely aware of Jazz's comfortable presence. The small smile morphed into a frown as Prowl remembered _why_ he was in Jazz's presence. "If my life is in danger, what purpose would it serve to keep whatever is ailing me undetectable? Why not make it strong enough to kill me the first time? If that is their goal, then they should be more concerned with killing me than with keeping whatever is in my systems undetectable."

"Prowl, don't talk like that. Ya almost make it sound like they're failing and Ah actually prefer them to fail in this." Jazz said as he took a tentative step closer, and to his relief, Prowl didn't move. "Maybe they have a sleeper agent hidden here somewhere, and don't want to risk blowin' his cover. There's a lot o' possibilities that Ah still need to check out."

Prowl looked at Jazz, their fields slightly overlapping as they saboteur moved one more step closer. Prowl was tempted to take a step back, but with the door blocking his retreat, and Jazz blocking the way forward, he remained where he stood, slightly nervous at the close proximity of the saboteur and what that did to his systems.

Prowl sighed, deliberately relaxing his doorwings and once again looking around the room to avoid Jazz's concerned look. "Alright Jazz. Do what you have to do." He said in his low Baritone voice.

Jazz took one more step forward. He reached out and grabbed Prowl's face, pressing their foreheads together intimately. "Ah won't let anything happen to ya Prowler. Ya mean way too much to me." He let go and stepped around a stunned, speechless Prowl, opened the door and slipped into the abandoned hallway.

* * *

The medbay was thankfully quiet in the evenings, the quiet only disturbed by the faint beeping of medical machinery as they faithfully monitored their overnight patients. With the advent of the night shift, most staff greeted each other and welcomed those attending the night shift, going from patient to patient and explaining the nature of their patients' overnight stay until they said their goodbyes and went to the recroom for some well-deserved down-time. The result was a very small skeleton crew manning the medbay during the night.

This arrangement suited Jumpstart perfectly. He wasn't one for socialising, and preferred to remain in medbay where he felt comfortable, hence, to the other medical staff's delight, he always volunteered for nightshift.

Jumpstart quietly entered Ratchet's office, sliding towards the datapad cabinet housing patient files and reports. He quickly keyed in the code and started perusing through the datapads, looking for a particular file. He found it and pulled it out, keying in his medical clearance code when prompted for authorisation.

Jumpstart nervously glanced at the door as he browsed through the datapad, looking for specific information while trying to gather as much information in the short time he had available. He needed to find the necessary information and fast.

"Got you." He murmured to himself as he found the information he was looking for, making mental notes as he read. He was so absorbed in his perusal of the datapad that he was oblivious to the medbay doors opening and closing.

"Excuse me?" a voice asked from behind him.

Jumpstart swore and dropped the datapad. Spinning around, he stared at the newcomer as the datapad bounced towards him. He glanced at the datapad, now lying face-up at the newcomer's feet. With difficulty he tore his optics away from the datapad and towards the newcomer. "Uhm, can I help you?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." Codebreaker replied easily as he walked into Ratchet's office, bending and picking up the fallen datapad, quickly perusing its contents as he did so. His optic ridges shot up as he read the patient's designation.

"Prowl's file?" he asked as he handed it back to Jumpstart. "What's wrong with him? Is he going to be ok?"

Jumpstart frowned and regained some his composure. "I'm sorry, but I cannot discuss Prowl's file with you. For one he is an officer and I highly doubt you've got clearance for the information, and secondly, even if you did we have a little protocol named 'patient confidentiality'." Jumpstart replied stiffly as he snatched the datapad back, quickly shutting it down.

Codebreaker held up his hands in defence, "Woah, buddy, didn't mean to pry. I'm just concerned for him that's all. You know, him being my superior and all."

Jumpstart narrowed his optics fractionally, regarding the young mech before him with suspicion. He quickly replaced the datapad in the cabinet and locked it. He turned to face Codebreaker again, who had retreated into the doorway. "What can I do for you?" he asked as politely and professionally as he could, but Codebreaker caught the edginess in his voice. Suspicion was starting to claw at his processor as well.

"I was looking for Ratchet." Codebreaker replied. Something was very familiar about the mech before him and he desperately raked his processor trying to remember.

"Ratchet is not presently in the medical bay. I suggest you request an appointment with him if I am unable to help you."

"Oh, no it's ok it's not that important." Codebreaker turned to go then stopped, quirking his head to the side, the slight inflection in the medic's accent was very familiar. "Mind if I ask you something personal?"

Jumpstart wearily looked at him, debating if he should let this stranger ask him a question or not. Well, the sooner he asked the sooner he would leave. He shrugged, "Alright, what do you want to know?" he asked, barely hiding his irritation.

"Didn't you work at Tyger Pax's medbay?"

Jumpstart was momentarily taken aback. "Where did you learn that?" He asked sharply. "That information was in my file and I cannot for the life of me remember meeting you there. And it's not as if I go around proclaiming it!"

"Easy doc! I was stationed at Tyger Pax before I was transferred here. I might have seen you in the medbay or gone through your file for tactical purposes. I didn't frequent the medbay, so that's probably the reason you don't recognise me. But it's nice to see someone from ol' Pax." Codebreaker said with an easy smile. He wondered at the defensiveness of the medic, and then something clicked.

"Say, I remember that you were a specialist in your field, you only dealt with certain cases. What was it again?" Codebreaker asked as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

Jumpstart straitened as he looked at the young, nosey mech. "It's none of your concern. Now, if there is nothing I can do for you, you may leave." He said frigidly, his optics boring a hole through Codebreaker, daring him to prod further.

Codebreaker gave him a curios look before slowly retracing his steps to the medbay entrance, his optics never leaving the medic. "I'll make an appointment with Ratchet. Thanks." He said and raced out of medbay.

As the medbay doors slid shut behind him, he smiled to himself. He had to find Jazz.

* * *

Jazz ambled through the hallways of Iacon base, heading towards his quiet quarters instead of the boisterous recroom. He wanted time to sort through his muddled thoughts that kept returning to the proud Praxian. He couldn't deny that his feelings towards Prowl had evolved beyond friendship, yet he wasn't sure if the tactician even reciprocated those feelings. That made him wonder if he should push things at all and risk losing the friendship, or if he should just let things be. That of course led to thoughts of Prowl in danger, and the promise he had made Prowl. And he would keep that promise, even if it got him killed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp, staccato steps of another mech hurrying after him.

"Jazz!"

Jazz stopped and waited for Smokescreen to join him. By the looks of things, Smokescreen wasn't in a pleasant mood either. Jazz smiled at the amusing thought. It appeared that this orn wasn't a very cheerful orn for the Praxians brothers. "What's up Smokes?"

Smokescreen came to a halt before him, placing his hands on his hips and flaring his doorwings. Jazz took an involuntary step backwards at the aggressive stance, vaguely wondering what the frag had crawled up Smokescreen's tailpipes.

"Mind if we had a chat. Now." Smokescreen's curt tone made it an order rather than a request.

Jazz did mind, but he wasn't about to show it. Smokescreen was Prowl's brother and if he wanted to talk, well, Jazz could make time for him. Besides he was itching to know what had Prowl's elder brother in such hostlie spirits.

"Lead on, mech" He encouraged.

* * *

Please review! :)


	8. Chapter 8

The next chapter is up. Enjoy! Word of warning, some violence in the beginning. And forgive if this is not one of my better chapters, RL has been a bit more distracting than usual.

A special thanks go to my reviewers…**DemonSurfer**, **Bluebird Soaring, SunnySidesofBlue, Fianna9, iNsAnE nO bAkA, Phoenix Starr, and Faecat.** You are awesome! :)

* * *

The scarred, barren wasteland spread out for miles in every direction, refusing to harbour the life it once held in abundance. Yet in this vast wasteland there was one small, insignificant shelter that held all life precious. In the dim light of the dawn the slumbering Autobot outpost was a beacon of safety to Neutrals and Autobots alike; little did they know that that beacon was soon to be shattered as malicious, red optics perused its prey, waiting the exact moment to attack.

::It's nearly time Onslaught.:: Vortex cackled through the comm. lines, the dim light seemed to be absorbed into his black blades as he flitted from one pede to the other, giddy with the anticipation of the massacre they were about to commit.

::Hold your positions. We await Swindle's signal.:: Onslaught commanded, though he too grew as restless as a wild beast in a cage, barely holding back his lust to kill. He was made for action, and it had been too long since the previous attack on the pathetic Neutrals. He couldn't wait for this assignment to be done so that he could get back to real action. His gun arm twitched as he seamlessly armed it.

::Can't we just go in and start killing? I'm collecting rust here:: Brawl's deep, impatient voice grumbled through the comm. lines.

::We follow Soundwave's orders. And remember, no survivors this time:: Onslaught reiterated, his annoyance and impatience leaking through both the bond and the comm.'s. They fell into uneasy silence after that, waiting and watching impatiently for Swindle's signal to attack.

::I see the signal!:: Blast Off shouted over the comm.'s. ::Let's go!::

Onslaught snarled, his impatience rewarded as his deeply satisfying words sang through the comm.'s ::Combaticons, ATTACK!::

* * *

Prism jolted up at the sound of alarms screeching through the base followed by low, rumbling sounds of explosions. His processor scrambled to reboot, to make sense of the different sounds and smells bombarding him from every hook and cranny. His mind finally made the connection: the outpost was under attack. Swearing he bolted off his berth like one possessed and threw open his.

He stepped into utter chaos as Neutrals ran past him, screaming and clamouring over each other to get to cover while explosions rocked the structures around him. Prism bolted towards the command room, ducking as shots rang past him. One blast exploded close enough behind him for the heat to singe his paint off as he dove for cover behind a crumbled structure. He managed a quick peek in the direction of the onslaught. His energon froze within him and his spark sank as he distinguished a tank-like figure shooting at anything within firing distance. _Brawl._ Prism looked around frantically, if Brawl was here, the rest of the Combaticons were sure to be here as well. He shut his optics as he inhaled air deeply through his vents, trying to calm the rabid pulsing of his terrified spark. He had to get to the command centre. Throwing one last glance in Brawl's direction to ensure he had a clean run, he set off to the command centre again, dodging hysterical Neutrals and desperately fighting Autobots.

He rounded the next corner and came to an abrupt halt. _No, no, no!_ The command centre was ablaze, flames licked at the scorched structure as black smoke billowed up into the sky from its windows and doors. The building gave a final death groan and collapsed, sending bright sparks flying into the cool air of dawn like dying stars.

A servo suddenly grabbed him and swung him round hard, causing him to cry out in pain as his back collided with a warm metal wall. He raised his arm to try and fend off his attacker, but stopped as the voice of his commander reached his audios.

"Prism, quickly, go to the communications unit. I think it's still standing. Alert Tyger Pax to the situation, but especially of the Combaticon's presence! Do you copy?" His commander shouted at him, blue optics wide and desperate.

Prism could do little more than nod, staring at his energon-soaked commander through frightened optics. His commander shoved him roughly in the communications building direction, "Go, we'll cover you!"

Prism darted through the barrage of laser fire and shell explosions. He ignored the frightened shrieks of Neutrals as they desperately searched for shelter, the screams of his comrades as enemy fire found their mark, and the smell of burning energon as he let determination propel him forwards. He stopped briefly to collect his bearings, glancing back he saw his commander fall, a laser beam having passed through his spark. Prism turned quickly away from the scene, quenching the nausea and fear threatening to dissolve his resolve and continued running.

He finally saw the communication centre, still standing, unharmed. Had he not been so set on reaching the communication console, he would have proceeded with caution, but the only thing that mattered to him at that moment was to follow through on his dead commander's orders and alert Tyger Pax to their situation. He bolted into the building and lunged for the consoles, activating the comm.'s.

"TYGER PAX! Come in! This is Autobot Prism, id 44517, Outpost X34 is under attack! I repeat, Outpost X34 is under atta– aargh"

Pain exploded through his systems, cutting off his words as red warning signs flashing across his blurred vision. He automatically grabbed for the blade impaled through his midsection, vainly trying to ease the searing pain as a strangled cry escaped his mouth.

Swindle twisted, then withdrew the blade, satisfied to see the pitiful, young Autobot sink to his knees with energon gushing out of his wounds, desperately clutching at it to stem the flow.

"Thought you'd never show. I was becoming bored here, waiting for one of your ilk to show up." Swindle said as he walked around the Autobot, taking his chin in his palm and raising his head till their optics met.

'_Tyger Pax to Outpost X34, acknowledged. What's your situation?'_ the console rang out into the dimly lit room. Swindle glanced at the console before turning back to Prism, who mustered the barest of smiles.

"They…know. Prime…will stop…you." Prism gasped. He had failed to alert Tyger Pax of the Combaticons, but at least they knew they were under attack. He had done his part for the War, now he could join his fallen comrades. His optics off-lined as his warm, grey frame fell lifelessly to the floor.

Swindle straightened over the frame of the dead Autobot, a smirk settling over his face. "Of course, we wanted them to know." He said before idly cocking his gun and aiming at the consoles.

::Onslaught, mission accomplished. Need help gunning the rest of those scraplets down?:: Swindle asked.

::Acknowledged. You can join, we're almost done.::

He nodded, satisfied with his handy work as he pulled the trigger and watched the console explode in a bright flash of orange, red and black, casting his dark shadow across the dead frame of Autobot Prism.

* * *

Jazz meandered through the halls behind Smokescreen, recognised the corridors leading to Smokescreen's office, and idly wondering why Smokescreen deemed it necessary to be graced by his lovely presence. Surely this could not have been an official visit he missed. He had been to ol' Smokes after his last mission, and to his knowledge those were the only obligatory visits he had to pay the head doc. So if this wasn't professional, then it had to be...Jazz stumbled a bit. _Personal. Right._ Suddenly Jazz wasn't too sure if he should be following Smokescreen at all.

Smokescreen walked briskly towards his office, wings held high as he sorted through how exactly he would say what he wanted to say to the saboteur in a civilised manner. He keyed in his code and held the door open, motioning for Jazz to enter. He stepped in after Jazz and locked the door, and despite his previous notions of being civil, launched into his repertoire even before Jazz reached the centre of the spacious office.

"I have it on good authority, that you, once again, have a romantic interest. Usually, who _you _drag to your berth at night is none of my business, neither do I want it to be any of my business. But, rumour has it that this new bot just happens to be _my brother_!" Smokescreen glared at Jazz before starting to pace the room like a caged animal, anger rolling off him in waves.

_Oh boy, definitively personal._ Jazz raised his hands in defeat, the last thing he wanted was a fall out with Prowl's brother. "Ok Smokes, before…"

Smokescreen cut him off with an impatient hand gesture. "What are you thinking? Are you even thinking? Why Prowl? He isn't like the other bots and you know it. He's sensitive and once he's committed, he's committed. You, on the other hand, don't give a slag about other bot's emotion. You just want to have a good time and that's all. It's all about you!" Smokescreen stopped and glared at Jazz.

"Now hang in there just one moment Smokes…" Jazz said, anger rising at the insults flung his way.

"No you listen to me!" Smokescreen jabbed a finger at Jazz. "My brother is not that kind of mech to jump from berth to berth as if it's the most normal thing in the universe. He struggles with his emotions, you know that. Feelings, and especially love, is illogical to him, and that can even make it dangerous to him because of his glitch. And I know you know about his glitch since you have already sent him to the medbay on more than one occasion thanks to some sort of illogical paradox!"

"The first time wasn't on purpose…"

Smokescreen paid him no heed; he flared his doorwings and continued pacing. Jazz moved a pace back to give Smokescreen and himself space. He couldn't lose his cool now.

"Furthermore, Prowl has been hurt enough in the past due to _'emotional connections' _with other bots. I don't want to stand there and see him try to pick up the pieces again, only to retreat more in on himself than he already is. He needs someone steady, who understands his culture and his need for logic! Someone like Codebreaker."

"What the frag! Maybe he needs to start makin' his own decisions Smokescreen! What if he wants to be with me?" Jazz bit out, hurt and anger lacing his words. It was enough to stop the older Praxian and earn his undivided attention, although menacing in nature.

Smokescreen stalked up to Jazz, his glacial optics glared icily down at Jazz while his doorwings flared wide in intimidation. "_Stay away from Prowl!"_ he seethed

Jazz wasn't about to be intimidated. "You think Ah don't care about Prowl and Ah just see him as someone to warm mah berth? Frag it Smokes how low do you think Ah'd go?"

"Anywhere to please yourself!" Smokescreen spat, bare inches away from Jazz. He narrowed his optics at Jazz, towering over him and daring him to disprove it.

Jazz sighed. "Ah know Prowl's sensitive and different from other mechs. Since the first time Ah met him Ah knew he was different. And Ah won't let anybody hurt him. But Prowl's his own mech and he has the right to choose for himself who he wants."

"Even if it's the Head of Special Ops? Let's say he does in some warped way enter into a relationship with you. You go out on dangerous missions all the time, and I know enough about those missions to know that only a certain amount of luck brings you back here in one piece. What if you don't come back? What then? Who's hurting him then? Who's going to pick up the pieces of his shattered life?" Smokescreen demanded, but his tone had gone down a bit.

Jazz's visor darkened marginally. "That's low Smokes. We're in a war. If Prowl went into a relationship with any bot it's always a possibility that he might not come back. But Ah do love Prowl."

Smokescreen threw back his head and laughed harshly. Shaking his head as he moved towards his desk. "Love, what do you know about love?"

Jazz cycled air through his vents trying to regain his composure. Getting into a fight with Prowl's brother wasn't going to enhance his chances, but he'd be slagged if he was going to allow Smokescreen to dictate where their relationship went.

"Ah guess about as much as Prowl." He said calmly.

Smokescreen's optics blazed as he glared at Jazz. "My brother isn't a flirt…"

"Ah didn't say he was." Jazz moved towards Smokescreen."Ah haven't done anything towards Prowl to hurt 'im. Ah've _neve'_ known another mech like him. Yer his brother, an' Ah respect that. But Ah won't let ya get in the way of Prowl and Ah if it's what _he_ wants. You are not going to dictate what we can do, an' what we can't."

Smokescreen stared at Jazz, a variety of emotion playing across his faceplates. He dropped his head, breaking their stare and inhaled deeply. He'd be damned if he let his little brother get hurt again.

"We'll see about that." He whispered fiercely and stormed out the office.

Jazz heaved a sigh and leaned against Smokescreen's desk, his shoulders sagging. He tiredly rubbed a servo over his face as he though back over Smokescreen's words. _Frag. Frag!_ He rested his servo's against the dark desk and absently-mindedly drummed a staccato beat against the golden metal.

As much as he didn't like how the conversation had gone, at least he had a couple of things clear now. He'd need to watch Codebreaker for one. The kid seemed pretty good, but damn he wasn't going to get in between him and Prowl. And just what right had Smokescreen to set his brother up. Prowl was a responsible mech, he was second in command of the Autobots for crying out loud. He could handle his own personal affairs as well. Well, he would still leave the decision up to Prowl, but he was going to double his efforts now. He smiled to himself. He wanted Prowlfor himself, and only himself, it was more than just a passing love interest. The way his spark pulsed when Prowl was close…

His private comm. beeped, interruptin his thoughts. He contemplated ignoring it, he really wasn't in the mood for conversation. On the other hand it could be important. He sighed and opened his comm. link.

::Jazz, here.::

::Sir, this is Codebreaker. Is it possible to make an appointment with you?::

Jazz mentally cringed. He should have ignored it. Codebreaker was the last mech he wanted to hear from at the moment, much less _see._ He wasn't sure he could trust himself with this one, especially after his talk with Smokey.

::Is it important?::

::I would deem it important information, sir.::

_Great. _::Ok, Ah can see ya in mah office in ten breems.::

Jazz official comm. pinged. _It neve' rains, but it pours. And today it's an acid storm galore._

::Hold that kid::

Jazz switched to his official comm., his foul mood receded somewhat when he heard the speaker. It was Prowl. The one mech he did want to talk to, but not officially.

::Thought you should be resting in yer quarters?:: Jazz asked by way of greeting.

::An important matter has arisen. All officers are to report to the boardroom immediately.:: Prowl said matter-of-fact and cut the lines. _We'll need to work on your comm. etiquette._ Jazz though wirily and switched back to Codebreaker as he headed in the direction of the meeting.

::Codebreaker, Ah need to cancel that meeting with ya. Somethin' came up. Ah'll contact ya late'.::

::Understood, sir.:: Codebreaker cut the line.

* * *

Codebreaker entered the statistical division for his morning shift after cutting the comm. with Jazz. He had hoped to discuss Jumpstart with Jazz before his shift, but since that wasn't going to happen, he might as well do some research of his own since his shift was due to start in about thirty breems. He briskly walked over to his console, determined to start early when Prowl entered the room.

Prowl gave one look around before his cold, calculating optics came to rest on Codebreaker. "Codebreaker. Come with me and bring your datapad. I will brief you on the way." With that he turned and marched out the door again, doorwings held high. Codebreaker grabbed his datapad and flew after Prowl, suddenly glad that Jazz had cancelled their appointment.

* * *

The air was thick with dread and anticipation as Jazz entered the boardroom. Optimus Prime was stately seated at the head of the table, his clear blue optics clouded with worry and blame as he sat brooding. Ultra Magnus looked at Jazz as he came in and gave a small nod. Jazz gave a nod in return and glanced at the other officers present, making his way to his seat. Ironhide sat scowling, a murderous look on his old, scarred face. That usually meant the Decepticons had been busy, and whatever they had been busy with, they had succeeded. Ratchet, too, sat brooding with a deeper, darker scowl, than was customary. Wheeljack, as usual, was the only bot who looked fairly positive in the whole room. How he still managed it after these long vorns of war only he knew.

Jazz sat down and waited with the rest. Blaster soon followed and took his seat next to Jazz, giving him a side smile, but avoided optic contact. _Mm, at least now Ah know who tipped off ol' Smokes. _Jazz smiled at him and leaned closer, whispering so only he could hear. "What's all this about?"

Blaster looked at him then, surprise written over his face. "You didn't get the memo?"

"Guess Ah got it, but Ah've had a small _talk_ with some bot that kept me busy. Mind sharin'?" He asked good naturedly.

At that moment Prowl strode into the room and went to sit on Prime's left. Blaster looked at Jazz, who was staring at Prowl. "Guess you're about to find out mech." He whispered sullenly.

Prime cleared his vocaliser and signalled the meeting to begin.

"Thank-you for all being present on such short notice. A matter of grave importance has arisen which needs our immediate attention. Prowl, if you would please continue."

Prowl nodded and turned towards the other officers present. " At 0420 this morning, an Autobot outpost, X34, within the territory of Tyger Pax was attacked. The outpost was also harbouring Neutrals from the recent Decepticon attacks. There are no survivors."

"Who called it in?" Ironhide asked, his expression grim as he stared at Prowl.

"An Autobot sniper, designation Prism. He was found offline at the communications centre." Prowl stated factually. No emotion played over his face, but Jazz thought he caught a twinge in his left doorwing. Prowl laid his datapad on the table and activated the recording.

"_TYGER PAX! Come in! This is Autobot Prism, id 44517, Outpost X34 is under attack! I repeat, Outpost X34 is under atta– aargh"_

The recording stopped with the strangled cry from the fallen Autobot. The room was silent as they silently processed the recording.

"This is the only information we currently have on this attack." Prowl stated, "Codebreaker, a junior tactician in my division, has gathered information concerning the recent attack on Neutral settlements. We have reason to believe that the same Decepticons responsible for the previous attacks are also responsible for this attack. However, we have no on-line survivors to verify this claim. Our objectives are to discover why they are attacking these seemingly insignificant settlements with such brutality and to determine if it forms part of a larger plan."

"Ain't there any survivors from other Neutral camps that could shed some light on the topic?" Jazz asked.

"Unfortunately, not many, and those that survived are either too traumatised to talk, or are in stasis lock. So, we need to send recon in." Optimus Prime leaned back in his chair, eyeing his officers before settling. "Jazz, since Mirage is already out on a mission, you are to go to this outpost. I want you to investigate the area and take note of Decepticon activities, and more importantly, try to figure out what they are aiming at."

Jazz sat up in his chair. _Frag_, "When do Ah leave boss bot?" he asked resting his chin in his palm.

"You are to leave as soon as you have been briefed and transport can be arranged." Optimus turned towards Prowl and raised his optic ridges.

"Affirmative. You are to leave in two cycles. You will need to pack your gear for a duration of at least three orns." Prowl stated.

"If I may ask, why send Jazz? Outposts have been destroyed before and Neutral settlements demolished, but that's a Decepticon thing." Blaster said, "Don't get me wrong, I don't like what happened here anymore than any of us, but why not send one of the minibots more suited to recon?"

Prowl turned towards Blaster. "It is our belief that the Decepticons are looking for something specific. We need to know what. There is evidence that they tried to hack into the communication subsystems. Also, the amount of damage they inflict is substantial. Jazz is trained for situations such as these and is best suited."

"Ok." Blaster said and leaned back in his chair.

"Is there anything else you would like to discuss about these occurrences?" Optimus Prime asked in his deep voice.

Jazz zoned out as the officers started elaborating on possible motives, his thoughts stuck on the fact that now, of all times, he should be called out to a mission. He let his gaze slide to Ratchet, who caught it and gave a slight nod, before turning his attention back to the meeting.

"Then this meeting is concluded. Jazz, good luck." Prime said and stood, his officers following his lead.

"Jazz, remain behind please." Prowl said. They waited until the other officers had left before he activated his comm.' line. A moment later Codebreaker entered the room.

"Codebreaker has been investigating these attacks and will share the information he has with you." Prowl said and resumed his seat. Jazz took his seat next to Prowl, and to his annoyance, Codebreaker took the seat on Prowl's other side.

Codebreaker quickly dove into the information he had collected, showing Jazz the possible patterns and the severity of the attacks on different settlements, including the latest on Outpost X34.

Jazz listened to him half-heartedly, finding his thoughts drifting back to Smokescreen's assessment of _'someone steady, who understands Prowl's culture and his need for logic…someone like Codebreaker.'_ How was Codebreaker all those things? The mech was damn boring and would probably allow Prowl to work harder than he already did. _Nah, Prowl needs someone like…_

::Jazz, are you paying attention?:: Prowl commed him privately.

Jazz snapped out of his reverie and stared at the holomap projection before him. Codebreaker was still rambling on about possible future targets.

::Yeah, course Ah'm listening.:: Jazz commmed back, flashing Prowl a brilliant smile.

Prowl stared back at him before turning to Codebreaker, "Thank-you Codebreaker. That would be all. You may resume your duties."

"Yes, sir." Codebreaker said and retrieved his datapad before leaving the two officers in the large, empty boardroom.

Prowl turned back to Jazz, a small amount of exasperation showing in his optics. "Jazz, did you even catch a word of that? This is serious."

Jazz at least had the grace of looking slightly offended. "Ah told ya Prowler, course Ah listened. Every word. But Ah will be reviewing the info once Ah'm in the air. Talkin' of which, who'll be flyin' me out?"

Prowl sighed, his barely their smile peeped out. "Sideswipe."

"Oh, damn, and his psychotic brother? Ah'm sharing air space with him too?" Jazz chuckled, glad for some alone time with Prowl before leaving.

"No, Sunstreaker is currently in the brig for brawling and insubordination. It would be a stealth mission, drop and go." Prowl stood, and Jazz followed his example.

Jazz's smile faded as he stared at Prowl. "Prowler be careful. Don't trust anybody. Ah don't like going and not having yer back."

Prowl looked at Jazz for a moment, doorwings twitching slightly as he struggled internally with himself. He shuttered his optics briefly and reached for Jazz's servo. "I am more concerned about you Jazz. Please, be careful out there." He gently squeezed Jazz's hand and left.

Jazz stared down at his servo, caught off guard by Prowl's uncharacteristic act, before his head snapped up and his pedes sprang into action, grin nearly splitting his faceplate, he raced after the retreating tactician. _Smokescreen can go frag himself._ "Hey, Prowler, wait up a click!"

* * *

The tactical division was a hive of activity when Codebreaker returned from briefing Jazz. The attacks on the Autobot outpost had most of the senior Autobots analysing data he had already covered. Smokescreen came marching up to him and stood next to his console.

"Can I help you, sir?" He asked cautiously. Smokescreen looked like storm clouds on the verge of breaking, and the last thing Codebreaker wanted was for that storm to burst over him in all its fury.

"You are to work with Prowl today." He said and stalked off.

_What was that?_ Codebreaker thought as he gaped after Smokescreen. He shook his head slightly lest a superior officer should see him. He leaned back in his chair, checking to see if Prowl had returned from the meeting. Prowl wasn't in his office yet, so he thought he would take the time to quickly do some personal research. Codebreaker linked into Tyger Pax's network. Skillfully navigating his way through the familiar files, it took him less than a breem before he found the file he sought.

_File: JUMPSTART_

_ Faction: Autobot, id code 65986_

_ Division: Medical_

_ Permanent base: Tyger Pax Military Base_

_ Current location: Iacon Military Base_

He sat forward in his chair, entering his codes and accessing the file. He diligently perused its contents, set on finding his quarry like a hound hunting a turbofox. _Got you_. He smiled smuglyas he found the exact information he was looking was as he had suspected.

Jumpstart was a virus specialist.

* * *

Chapter was a lot of dialogue, but necessary to move forward towards the climax. Please review your thoughts and comments! If you have any suggestions or see any errors, please PM me! Feedback is always appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for the long wait, but just to let you know the next update will probably be in two week's time, due to work and study obligations. This chapter _has not been edited…it's my raw version so please forgive the quality._ I just felt I needed to post something. Time has not been on my side lately and I originally planned on at least two more scenes, but alas, due to time constraint, you'll have to wait till next time. Apart from the boring news..

I would just like to thank all my stunning reviewers - **SunnySidesofBlue, EmperialGem21, Starfire201, iNsAnE nO bAkA, DemonSurfer**, **Alathea2**, **and Faecat. **Really, from the bottom of my heart thank-you!

* * *

I'll Be There 9

The hangerbay at the most quiet of times was a hub of activity as mechs scurried to and thro between shuttles, loading or offloading supplies, repairing or cleaning ships, all the while hollering and cursing at each other in the most creative Cybertronian curses imaginable. Metal creaked and engines groaned as various ships of different styles and sizes were grabbed by willing docking arms and gently escorted into docking bays.

Usually the commotion in and around the hangerbay thrilled Jazz and bred excitement within him. To him it meant the start of another mission, the thrill of the chase and the danger of infiltration. It was what he was _made _for.

Yet this time was different. Instead of excitement he felt trepidation. He wanted to be here, with Prowl. He needed to be here. Another bot passed by and shouted a colourful greeting. Jazz answered in turn, quickly pushing his thoughts to the back. He couldn't allow Prowl to distract him. He was third in command and head of special ops. He needed to focus on the mission, not Prowl, not Smokescreen and definitively not Codebreaker.

Jazz headed briskly to the back of the hangerbay, his senses assaulted by the heavy smell of exhaust fumes and raw fuel. His headed towards the area allocated to smaller vessels used primarily for stealth purposes.

Jazz came to the section and was met by the sight of a mech casually leaning against a metal crate. The handsome red mech was busy inspecting his blaster, but upon seeing Jazz, he flashed a devilish smile, his mischievous optics alight with the prospect of getting out of the confines of Iacon.

"Hey Jazz. Long time no see." The mech pushed away from the crate sauntering towards Jazz.

"Hey Sides. This our littl' lady?" Jazz nodded towards the small, black stealth ship docked at the bay nine.

"Lady? You mean this hunk of junk they just so happened to assign us?" Sideswipe grimaced as he sceptically glanced over the small vessel. "One would think with your rank we'd be able to get a proper stealth shuttle. You actually expect me to fly this?"

Jazz smiled at the vessel, leaning slightly back to get a better view. He shrugged lightly. "Only vessel available at such short notice. Ah think she'd be just fine. Suites you perfectly anyways. She's yer type."

Whatever Sideswipe had planned to retort was cut short as two flashing fins appeared out of the hull, its owner's merry voice filling the noisy area like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy morning.

"Ok! She's ready to soar!"

Jazz turned towards the voice and flashed his famous smile. "Hey 'Jack." Jazz greeted him, then looked worriedly at the small vessel. "Ya didn't, uhm, place anything in there? Weapons or somethin'?" he asked cautiously. Wheeljack's weapons had a nack for exploding, and he didn't feel like flying inside a fireball.

"Frag he better not have or I'm really not flying that thing." Sideswipe muttered under his breath, taking one step back from the vessel.

"Nah, just gave her a quick look over. Most of the engineers are busy with the other ships as this one was a bit, well, unscheduled." Wheeljack said as he stepped onto the docking bay. His optics suddenly went wide as he remembered something and, fins flashed excitedly, he quickly pulled a relatively normal looking blaster from subspace. "But if you want, I have this new weapon I've been working on…"

"NO!" Sideswipe and Jazz cried in unison, both flinging their hands out towards the engineer in defense. Wheeljack cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. He held the weapon before him, looking at it then at the two mechs before him.

Jazz cleared his vocaliser as he looked at the confused engineer. "This is a stealth mission. Drop and go only. So we won't be requiring extra weapons." He said to try and smooth over the awkward situation.

The chief engineer visibly deflated, sighing as he looked at the blaster. "I've been itching to try it out. But I guess I'll just have to wait, huh?" He asked looking sheepish as he gently stroked the blaster like it was some kind of weird pet.

Jazz cringed at the defeated look of his friend. He was about to hate himself, but he sighed as he took the blaster from Wheeljack's hands. "Maybe Ah could take it along, you know, for back up. But Ah can't promise that Ah'll test it though." _Absolutely no fragging way Ah'm testing it._

Sideswipe stared at Jazz in abject horror, automatically leaning away from him and eyeing the offending weapon. "You're sitting way in the back. And don't you dare touch anything." He murmured softly as he stepped around Jazz and marched towards the vessel's entrance.

"Well, I'll let you two be on your way. Be careful though. See you when you get back!" Wheeljack called out as he leisurely strolled through the busy hanger, oblivious to the loud curses and screeching brakes as hanger workers swerved to avoid the absent-minded engineer.

Jazz shook his head at his departing friend. Primus only knew how the accident prone mech still managed to stay functional. Jazz grabbed hold of the door and swung in just as the stealth engines sputtered to life with an agonizing screech. Hanger workers spared a click to stare at the source of the alien noise reverberated throughout the hanger. .

"Ya sure ya got the right vessel? Jazz asked.

"Told you it was a hunk of junk." Came the cheeky reply from the cockpit.

"Ya also mentioned _stealth."_ Jazz chuckled as he prepared to shut the hatch.

"Jazz!"

_What know?_ Jazz thought as he peeked through the hatch at the mech who had hailed him. _Codebreaker. Great._ He leaned back into the vessel and shouted into the cockpit. "Yo Sides, give me a few clicks."

"Whatever, just hurry it up, don't know how long I can keep her airborne."

"Ya'll manage." Jazz said and disembarked just as Codebreaker dodged the last hanger worker to come to a screeching halt in front of the special ops mech. "What ya want kid?" Jazz asked pleasantly, "just make it quick Ah'm running a tight schedule."

"I know sir, just thought you might want to know that I have been assigned by Smokescreen to work with Prowl on this case." Codebreaker said, looking around the hanger to make sure no one was within hearing range. It wouldn't have mattered anyway since the small black ship's engines were kicking up quiet a racket.

_Ah am so gonna kill you Smokes. _"You come all this way to tell me that?" Jazz asked, a fraction of the irritation he felt slipping into his words like poison as he folded his arms over his chest.

"No, sir, what I wanted to tell you is," Codebreaker fidgeted slightly, looking around one more time before looking at Jazz, "that I will be looking out for Prowl."

Jazz's visor darkened marginally at that. _Looking out for Prowl?_ "Explain."

"Sir, Smokescreen informed me of the last attack, and Prowl's _situation_ since then, and I think I might have gotten a lead in it." The young tactician flustered at Jazz's deep scowl. This wasn't how Jazz usually was. Could he suspect…?

"Go on." Jazz ordered curtly. He and Smokescreen was definitively going to have a discussion about this. Prowl was an officer and such a young, relatively new tactician was not suppose to know any detail about a senior officer's medical conditions. _Especially_ Prowl's.

"Well, the other day I went into medbay to speak to Ratchet about a personal matter, when I came across the young medic, Jumpstart by designation. He was perusing medical files when I entered. I must have startled him because he dropped the datapad and I briefly got a glimpse of the file name. It was Prowl's." Codebreaker stared intently at the third-in-command, willing him to understand.

"He's a medic. He has been working on Prowl since the beginning. It wouldn't be unusual for him to be goin' over a patient's medical files."

The small ship stuttered behind them again, creaking and groaning her impatience at the unnecessary wait. A few bots turned to stare at the small ship, wagging their heads and muttering under their breaths.

"Yo Jazz! Hurry it up I'm collecting rust here!" Sideswipe's impatient voice drifted from the small vessel, barely heard above the clatter of the hanger.

Jazz ignored him and looked at the fidgeting mech before him. "What's yer point 'Breaker?" he asked.

Codebreaker sighed in exasperation. "My point, sir, is that he was acting suspicious the whole time and he immediately locked the datapad away after I gave it back to him. Also, we worked together at Tyger Pax. He was a specialist in his field. A virus specialist."

Jazz head shot up at that. _Virus specialist? _He narrowed his optics as his processor began racing in different directions, each new possibility fiercely vying for attention.

"Jazz!" Sideswipe shouted, shattering Jazz's thoughts.

Jazz looked towards the vessel, then quickly turned back to Codebreaker. "Ok, just watch him. If he locks up, take him to Ratchet, but do not say anything about this or yer suspicions. An' that's an order."

"Yes sir." Codebreaker said and stepped back as Jazz launched himself at the hatch, barely closing it in time before the black shuttle gracelessly lifted into the air, slowly manoeuvring into launch position. Codebreaker watched it all, a small, sweet smile adorning his faceplate. _I'll definitively be watching Prowl._

* * *

Prowl, meanwhile, was diligently pouring over the data concerning the attacks on the Neutral settlements and the Autobot outpost. Something about the attacks did not add up. They were too random to be after something specific, yet the attacks were increasing in both occurrences and violence, and appeared to have now spread to Autobot outposts. Energy was a crucial resource to both sides, so why would Megatron waste time, resources and most importantly energy with attacks that seemed to yield no strategic advantage or sufficient energy returns to validate it.

Prowl turned to the holomap. There was no logical pattern to any of the attacks, save that they were confined to the area close to the Kaon – Tyger Pax – Iacon borders. It was suppose to be declared a neutral area and was littered with Neutral settlements – both Decepticon and Autobot sympathisers.

There had to be an ulterior motive for the attacks, one that the Autobots could not yet determine, but must be of immense importance to the Decepticon faction. Prowl rubbed his chevron gently. He could feel another ache coming and the last thing he wanted to do was wake up to Ratchet's scowling face in the medical bay.

"You OK, Prowl?" Smokescreen asked.

Prowl looked up at the doorway, where Smokescreen stood silhouetted against the backlight.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank-you." Prowl replied easily and waited for Smokescreen to leave so that he could continue his assessment. Or perhaps go see Ratchet if the headache persisted.

Smokescreen moved into the room and took a seat across from Prowl, ignoring the small scowl his younger brother sent him. "Don't look at me like that and don't lie to me. The only time you ever touch your chevron is when you feel a lock-up coming."

Prowl sighed as he leaned back in his chair, regarding his older brother with a fair mixture of exasperation and tolerance. He decided to ignore Smokescreen's comments and returned to his impassive facial expression. "I am working Smokescreen. Is this a social visit or do you have some pressing matter to discuss? If not, I would appreciate it if you left." he asked briskly.

"Don't do that Prowl. Don't go hiding behind that professional mask. You know it doesn't work with me." Smokescreen said slowly shaking his head. "Besides, I'm here for both reasons. Firstly, we haven't 'socialed' in ages so I barely have any idea what's going on in your life. And I'm worried. You've been to the medbay twice where Ratchet had placed you on medical leave for no apparent reason. I haven't pried or anything, just waited for you to come talk to me and yet you haven't. As your older brother, I am concerned about you Prowl." Smokescreen ended gently, his optics shone with sincerity and concern.

The office was painfully quiet as Prowl watched Smokescreen. Without a word he turned to the holomap and deactivated it before sending a command to the door to shut. Prowl turned to his desk and started sorting the datapads.

Smokescreen waited patiently for Prowl to finish, knowing well that if he tried to push his brother to talk or act it would most likely end in disaster. He watched Prowl's doorwings for small signs of agitation, and sure enough, they were there. The doorwings were held stiffly, although not as high as usual and twitched every few nanoclicks. That was either a sign of fatigue or unease. In Prowl's case it was likely both, since Prowl tended to work himself to the support struts and talking about emotional conditions was not the logical tactician's forte. Still, Smokescreen loved his brother and was genuinely concerned about him. That and he needed to warn him about a certain, troublesome saboteur.

Prowl set the last datapad neatly on a stack on the left side of his desk and looked at Smokescreen. "Smokescreen, I appreciate your concern for my well-being, and I must apologise for my lack of socialization the past few orns. As you have already pointed out, I have been on medical leave and therefore I have neglected work that needs to be urgently tended to." Prowl said as he formed a steeple with his hands, gently leaning forward in his chair until his chin rested against his hands.

"Come on Prowl, it's not like the tactical division has been inactive while you were on leave. I personally handled many of the datapads that came to your office. It's more like you've been avoiding me or," Smokescreen's optics narrowed in suspicion, "you've been socializing with someone else." He said and cocked his head, a small smile playing at his lips.

Prowl glared at Smokescreen. "I will not lie to you. I had been restricted to my quarters and the only bots to _socialize_, and I mean in a working environment, has been Jazz and Codebreaker."

"Uh-huh." Smokescreen said and sat forward in his chair. "We'll talk about that later. First, I want to know why you were on med leave. You scared the living Pit out of me each time I got the comm. you were in medbay. You don't lock up that often and especially not to that extent." He said quietly.

Prowl leaned back in his chair and stared at his computer screen, a small scowl crossing his forehead as he battled to find the right words. The truth was that they didn't know. Ratchet had determined that his battle computer was somehow involved, yet diagnostics showed nothing. It wasn't like a regular lock-up either, since that usually involved his logic centre. Prowl looked at Smokescreen's expectant visage. So much warmth and concern swam in those optics, and Prowl hated not being able to give a satisfactory answer. He sighed and gave a small shrug. "To be honest, I am not sure. Ratchet has not been able to isolate the problem. All he knows is that my battle computer is somehow involved, but is not the source of the problem. He has me scheduled for more tests in the next orn."

Smokescreen watched Prowl closely as he talked. "So it's not your glitch acting up?"

"No, my glitch hasn't 'acted up' in at least twenty orns thanks to the Twins being mostly away on missions or in the brig." Prowl commented wryly. "Besides, the problem seems to have had its origin when I was attacked at the Neutral settlement. Ratchet believes that the attack might have jarred my battle computer so that it is malfunctioning. However, it is highly unlikely. My systems would have determined and logged a malfunction of that kind."

"Ok Prowl. Just please be careful. You've been in the medbay enough already. The past couple of orns you've been there nearly as much as the Twins have been in the brig." Smokescreen lightly joked, though Prowl could hear the concerned undercurrent of his words.

"I will be. Now, was that all you wished to know?" Prowl politely asked his psychologist brother, clearly indicating that he wished this 'social' session to end. His mind already ached enough that he didn't want to venture further onto the dangerous plateau of unfathomable emotions.

Smokescreen shifted uneasily in his seat; unsure of how to start the next conversation, yet he was reluctant to leave until they had talked about it. "Where's Codebreaker? I ordered him to assist you with this case." Smokescreen matched Prowl's polite tone. Prowl would relax marginally if they talked about work. He was in no way oblivious to the fact that Prowl didn't want to venture into emotions, but that didn't mean he could goad him into it.

"He has gone to collect our evening rations of energon. He is still assisting in the investigation and his knowledge of the Kaon - Tyger-Pax borders are most convenient." Prowl replied.

"He's a smart kid. Talked to the bots back at Tyger Pax when I was doing his psychological evaluation. They gave him a very good report. He works hard, follows orders, and actually has the ability to _think, _something I sometimes find lacking under the majority of bots. Wouldn't you agree?" Smokescreen asked lightly.

Prowl smiled at him. "I have to agree. I enjoy working with Codebreaker. He is a good associate and an asset to the Tactical Department. His work is thorough."

"Praise indeed from someone as strict as you." Smokescreen chuckled. They fell into comfortable silence as Smokescreen wondered exactly how he was going to brooch the subject of 'Jazz' without aggravating Prowl. Smokescreen knew that Prowl regarded Jazz as one of his close friends, but Prowl was still his brother and there was no way he would stand by and watch Jazz mess with him.

"Huh-um," Smokescreen cleared his vocaliser, staring at his hands.

Prowl looked at him raising his chin slightly. "What is it Smokescreen?" He asked in a long-suffering voice. Usually when Smokescreen fidgeted like this it meant two things. One, it involved emotions, and two, it was a subject that was going to cause some level of discomfort for them both.

"Well, I need to talk to you about something, or rather, _someone_." He said finally, looking pointedly at Prowl.

"Is this on a personal or professional level?"

"You could say it involves a bit of both." Smokescreen narrowed his optics as he stared at a point on the wall above Prowl's right shoulder, absentmindedly stroking his chin.

"I am listening." Prowl intoned, although his voice held a note of weariness to it as the ache in his processor moved up a notch in intensity.

"OK. In short, I want to talk to you. About Jazz." Smoekscreen decided to play it straight. Prowl wasn't known for beating around the bush in any case.

Prowl frowned. "Talk to me? About Jazz?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes. I know Jazz very well and I know his reputation, especially among lovers. He's a player and he only cares about someone to warm his berth. He's not in it for the long run. And, well, I don't actually know what to tell you." He ended lamely. His finely rehearsed speech had somehow become lost in the archives of his processor.

"Lovers?" Prowl asked again, this time with a note of surprise wedged firmly next to incredulous. "Excuse me Smokescreen, but I am not sure what this has to do with me." Prowl pointed out, hoping his brother would stop talking strangely. Why was his brother concerned with Jazz's love life anyway? A small, discomforting emotion wrapped its strange, unfamiliar embrace around Prowl's spark. _What if Smokescreen was interested in Jazz as a lover? _Prowl looked at Smokescreen, suspicion rearing its head in his thoughts. "You are interested in Jazz as a lover? You want my opinion?"

"Me? What? No! Never! He's slaggin' good looking, but I'm not stupid, or well, not stupid, just…He's not my type." Smokescreen back-pedalled. Where on Cybertron did Prowl get that idea from.

Prowl slightly relaxed at that assurance while the strangling embrace of the unwanted emotion slowly released itself from his spark. "Alright, if you are not discussing your interest in Jazz, then why would you want to talk to me about his personal affairs?" Prowl asked.

It was Smokescreen's turn to look incredulous. Was Prowl really so thick when it came to matters of the spark. It briefly occurred to him that now would be a good time to drop the subject, but he ignored the thought. "No I meant you. As in he has his sights set on you."

"Me?" Prowl asked shocked. The ache in his processor moved up another notch, but this time it was joined by a dull ache in his logic centre.

"Yes, you." Smokescreen stood and paced the room. "Prowl, I know you are a grown mech, but as your older brother, it is my duty to warn you against things like this. I don't know how you feel about Jazz, even if you harbour any kind of feelings towards him you have to think it through carefully. You are not exactly compatible." Smokescreen came to a stop before Prowl, eyeing his brother sternly.

Prowl was staring at nothing in particular, trying to sort through the various emotions without having his processor crash in the process. As it were his emotions were moving onto dangerous new ground. "So you are admitting that you are aware Jazz has emotions toward me that surpass those of friendship?"

Smokescreen folded his arms across his broad chest. "Yes, I am aware of that. And that is why I need to warn you. He will be flirting with you, making you feel like the best bot on the whole planet, but once he got you into his berth, it will be all over. You're a challenge to him, and once that challenge is won he will emerge as the victor and leave you standing as the loser on the sidelines. I'm not going to stand by and watch that happen."

Prowl stared around his office. He was confused with the strange feelings fluttering within his spark, yet at the same time he was elated to know Jazz considered him as a romantic interest. Why would that be such a bad thing? "Smokescreen, as much as I appreciate your concerns, I admit that I am," he paused to consider the right words to use, "_flattered_ by Jazz's attention. I will also admit that I share some positive feelings towards Jazz, which I will not completely classify as within the boundaries of friendship."

Smokescreen stared at Prowl, mouth open. Slag he wasn't prepared for that. He had thought Jazz had only bluffed when he said Prowl might return some of those feelings. "Prowl, think for a moment. This isn't logical. Jazz is not your type. He isn't loyal to his lovers, you are. He isn't bothered by deeper emotions, you are. He loves partying, you don't. If you compare yourselves, you almost have nothing in common."

"If I were to compare ourselves I believe my logic centre would glitch." Prowl commented dryly.

"Exactly!" Smokescreen interjected, his voice rising in irritation. "Entering into any kind of romantic relationship with Jazz has more hazards than benefits. Why don't you rather go for someone dependent, loyal, logical or any other emotion that's compatible to you? I don't want Jazz to cajole you into some relationship for the sake of his own amusement."

Prowl stiffened at that last accusation aimed at Jazz. Icy optics locked with Smokescreen. "If Jazz and I were to become romantically involved, it would be my choice. Jazz is not as shallow as you make him out to be. We have been close friends for vorns, and even though I am aware of his reputation, I will not let it hinder me if I find the circumstances to be convenient."

Smokescreen drew deep drags of breath through his ventilators, fighting, and failing miserably to remain calm. He couldn't upset Prowl. It wasn't why he was here, but somehow he had to make Prowl see reason.

"Apart from my opinion that you are wholly incompatible, there is also the matter that you are both high-ranking officers and an affair of this type could put us at a disadvantage should the Decepticon's discover it. Are you willing to endanger the Autobots just because of your feelings towards Jazz?" Smokescreen said evenly. It was a low blow and he knew it, but if it was what the situation required, so be it.

Prowl dropped his optics and swung away from Smokescreen. Absentmindedly he raised his hand and started rubbing his chevron again. Smokescreen was right. A relationship with Jazz was likely give the Decepticons leverage should one of them be captured and it be discovered. Prowl was also responsible for sending Jazz out on dangerous missions. If he was to enter into a relationship with Jazz, how would it influence his decisions? He groaned as pain laced through his CPU. His processor ache definitively warranted a trip to the medbay now. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his brother's optics. All the anger and irritation had drained away and now all that remained in his blue optics were unadultered concern.

"Prowl, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. You don't need to deal with this now." Smokescreen stared back at Prowl. His eyes were too white to be healthy and his armour too hot for it to be normal. _Stupid, stupid. _Smokescreen mentally berated himself for losing his cool with Prowl. Why did he allow it to go this far when he knew his brother couldn't handle the emotions?

Prowl gave a brief nod and rested his head in his hand again. He tried to clear his thoughts from all emotions, but to no avail. The room started blurring and everything became distant as he felt himself slowly locking up.

"Prowl, I've called a medic. He ought to be here soon." Smokescreen said as he turned Prowl to face him. "Look at me." Prowl reluctantly turned his diluted optics towards Smokescreen. "Good. I need you to tell me about…" Smokescreen hesitated a click as his mind tried to grasp unto a logical concept he could ask Prowl about, "about the new security measure Red Alert installed during the previous cycles." Good. That was something logical Prowl could hopefully latch on to.

Prowl focused and refocused his optics on Smokescreen, willing his processor to recollect the information needed. "New cameras in sectors B1 and B2, old cameras were destroyed in one of Sideswipe's pranks. New motion detectors installed in…" Prowl's voice slowly trailed off as he sagged against Smokescreen.

"Prowl!" Smokescreen shook him harshly to get his attention. "Where are the new motion detectors? Have they been tested?" _Where is the damn, fragging medic?_ Smokescreen thought as Prowl once again struggled to recollect the data.

Prowl's door pinged and Smokescreen hurriedly reached over to enter the codes to open it, allowing an unfamiliar orange and white medic to race in. Smokescreen shifted around Prowl to support him from behind, gently massaging his doorwings as the medic knelt before Prowl and inserted his cable.

Jumpstart immediately accessed the logic centre and defragged it using a special medical protocol suited to Prowl's condition. At least this would stop the lock-up.

Jumpstart allowed the program to run unhindered as he ran diagnostics and scans over Prowl's frame. Prowl's core temperature was slightly above normal, but he wasn't overly concerned with it. He focused his attention on the battle computer. With most of Prowl's firewalls down he was free to inspect it at leisure. He scowled slightly as his diagnostic reports came back, indicating the activation of the battle computer at least fifteen to twenty breems ago. Why was Prowl's battle computer activated? It wasn't supposed to be active.

"Did you have an argument?" Jumpstart asked Smokescreen, who managed to look sheepish as he stood behind Prowl.

"We may have had a disagreement or two touching a sensitive topic." He replied.

"When was this? Or how long ago did you argue?"

Smokescreen shrugged, "Probably within the last five to ten breems. No longer than that. Why?"

Jumpstart briefly hesitated, "It helps with treating the patient if I know what caused the lock-up." He lied. He quickly uploaded his diagnostic results and wiped the logs of the battle computer being active.

Smokescreen nodded. He couldn't care less what the medic did as long as it helped Prowl. Smokescreen stared around the painfully neat office, everything was placed to maximise efficiency and no personal ornaments were to be found. Prowl just wasn't the kind of bot to hold sentimental value to objects. Smokescreen shuttered his optics. How was Prowl ever going to function normally in a relationship – especially with a _creature _as illogical as Jazz? Why the Pit did he allow this to slip past his radar? Prowl was already too emotionally involved with that mech for his own good.

Smokescreen's musings were interrupted by the soft-spoken voice of the medic. "Ok, I managed to unlock his processor and run a quick defrag of his system. However he would need at least seven cycles of deep recharge to defrag it properly. Luckily he didn't go into full lock-up otherwise we would have had to send him to medbay." Jumpstart gave Smokescreen a reassuring smile. "I've also uploaded a program that ought to bring down his temperature back into normal levels. Don't worry, he'll be fine." Jumpstart laid his hand on Prowls shoulder and gently shook it. "Prowl, sir? Can you respond to me?" He asked.

Prowl moaned and shuttered his optics, raising a servo to his optics before letting his hand drop again.

"Prowl? Can you hear me?" Smokescreen asked as he leaned over Prowl, trying to see into his face. Prowl flickered his doorwings back and forth, moaning softly as he relaxed back into Smokescreen's touch. "Good. How are you feeling?" Smokescreen asked again.

Prowl took a few clicks before he unshuttered his optics, gazing into Smokescreen's face. "Better. Thank you." He replied in a static voice before looking at the medic. "Where's Ratchet?"

"Unfortunately Ratchet was busy with another patient and was unable to come. He sent me instead." Jumpstart said as he got up and started folding his cable. "I would recommend that you take the rest of the shift off and recharge. Your CPU needs a good defrag session."

Prowl looked at his desk and the stack of datapads still craving his attention. He sighed. He felt weak and unstable, yet the datapads needed his attention. He turned back to Jumpstart. "Understood. I will recharge as soon as I finish these."

"Oh no you don't!" Smokescreen grabbed Prowl under his arms and hoisted him to his feet. "If you need recharge, then you are going to recharge. Your shift has been over for at least one cycle so you are not neglecting your duties."

Jumpstart inched back into the corner of the office, staying out of the way of the two Praxians.

Prowl glowered at Smokescreen, but Smokescreen paid him no heed. He kept his hold on Prowl's arm and escorted him out of the office.

Jumpstart headed back to Prowl's office and glanced at the datapads, then at the door. He could probably take a quick peek without anybody noticing…

"What are you doing here?" A cold voice asked from the doorway.

Jumpstart jumped at the sound of the familiar voice. "I was here on Smokescreen's request." The young medic said as he turned to face Codebreaker.

Codebreaker stood holding two cubes of energon in his hands, looking suspiciously at Codebreaker. This might be his chance to talk to the medic, but knowing the medic he would probably find a good excuse to leave. The medic was already walking towards the door, but Codebreaker interceded him.

Jumpstart glared at Codebreaker. "Please move. I am needed back at the medical bay." He said stiffly.

Codebreaker leaned against the doorway, an easy smile adorned his faceplate. "On one condition." He said playfully.

Jumpstart eyed him suspiciously, then decided to go along with it. "And what might this condition be?" Codebreaker raised an optic ridge at his cold reply. A glacier was warmer compared to Jumpstart's icy tone.

"Join me for energon after shift?" Codebreaker asked sweetly. "We could meet in the recroom," he hesitated, "or if you prefer I could always meet you at the medbay?"

Jumpstart stared at Codebreaker. "Why?"

"Why? You hail from Tyger-Pax, that practically makes us brothers here! It's just a friendly cube of energon."

Jumpstart stared at Codebreaker then at the door. "Fine. Meet me after your shift at the medbay. I'm working graveyard shift." He reluctantly agreed.

Codebreaker graciously sprang to the side, allowing Jumpstart to flee past him to his medbay. Codebreaker watched him leave, his expression unreadable as he narrowed his optics at the retreating medic.

* * *

I will be editing this chapter at some stage when I have more time. If you see any errors or such, please PM me. Sorry about the quality of the chapter. It should have been way better, but I'll put more effort into the next chapter and edit this one later.

Please review and thank-you! :)


	10. Chapter 10

I would just like to thank all my stunning reviewers - SunnySidesofBlue**, ****EmperialGem21****, ****iNsAnE nO bAkA****, Carnomaniac, Faecat, Daklog73** **and Aurrawings. **You guys are the inspiration that keeps this story going!

Warnings: swearing

* * *

**I'll be There 10**

"This fragging good for nothing, slag-sucking, piece of ridiculous scrap!" Sideswipe slammed the controls of the poor little stealth ship as she sat motionless on the ground, her whining engines bellowing dark, swirling smoke as she pathetically tried to reignite her engines.

Jazz leaned against the bulkhead of the cockpit, cocking his head at Sideswipe's tell-tale display of childish anger. Not that he wasn't frustrated himself, but abusing the ship just wasn't going to get them anywhere either. He smiled at the sight before him.

"Looks like yer losing yer touch Sides." Jazz joked as he watched Sideswipe fuss with the controls, cursing the little ship in the most creative of Cybertronian cusses as she refused to yield to his demands and threats. The ship's engines gave one last, pathetic shudder and died. "Looks like ya made the little lady angry." Jazz said as he pushed off and gave the command to unlock the hatch.

"Yeah well, this _little lady_ is so full of fraggin' slag. I can't believe she just stalled on us! And so fraggin' close too!" Sideswipe said as he gave the controls one last slap before joining Jazz and heading outside.

The barren landscape greeted its intruders with absolute silence. Cybertron's two moons gently shone on the lifeless land, bathing Jazz and Sideswipe in silver light as they perused their surroundings.

"We're close enough for me to make the rest of mah journey in alt-form." Jazz said. He gave the ship a once over then turned towards Sideswipe with a cheeky grin. "You stay here, try apologizing to the littl' lady for all the mean things ya said to her. Maybe she'll forgive ya." He gave Sideswipe a slap on the shoulder and transformed gracefully. "Come pick me up when ya two sorted out yer problems!" He shouted and raced off towards the horizon.

"Whatever." Sideswipe moaned as he turned and unlocked the engine caps. Black smoke bellowed out, engulfing him in acrid black soot as he lifted the lid. Coughing, he sprang back, waving his hands in front of him in an effort to dispel the smoke. He heaved a slow, heavy sigh and looked at Jazz's form slowly disappearing between the broken land before turning back to the stealth ship. "I still think you're a glitch."

Break

Jumpstart nervously glanced around the empty medbay. Ratchet was currently occupied writing reports in his office, which gave him ample time to sneak into the storage closet. Glancing around one last time, his eyes lingering on the closed office door, he opened the door and snuck inside, softly closing the door behind him. He leaned against the door listening closely, the gentle hum of machines the only sounds filtering through the thick, metal walls.

He turned and switched on the light, casting the room in a soft, white glow. He treaded over to the far shelf and started perusing the various bottles and vials stocked there. He finally found the virulent medicines he was looking for, medicines designed to be strong enough to take a mech down instantly without a struggle. Too much of a dose and it was absolutely lethal. It was just what he needed.

He picked up the first bottle and read its contents, frowned and placed it back on the shelf. He needed something very strong. He read the label of the next bottle and smiled. _Perfect._ He thought at he inserted a syringe into the bottle and drew the transparent liquid until the syringe's max. He replaced the bottle and subspaced the syringe. He quickly replaced the bottle and ensured that nothing looked out of place.

Satisfied, he walked to the door and slipped out, switching the light off as he went and plunging the small room and its secrets into utter darkness.

Break

Jazz slid to a stop in front of the Neutral settlement and transformed, eyeing the two blasters aimed at him. The two guards approached him cautiously and motioned him forward.

"What do you want Autobot? This is a Neutral settlement. We have no energon to spare neither do we have mechs who want to be recruited." The older guard said in his gruff, but friendly voice as he motioned with the blaster.

Jazz held up his hands in a friendly manner then dropped them again, taking a relaxed, non-threatening stand, but still eyeing the swinging blaster with some concern. "Ah ain't here for yer energon and Ah ain't here to recruit yer mechs. Primus knows ya need every last one of 'em with what's goin on in the area."

The older mech solemnly shook his head, looking vorns older as his sharp optics perused the barren landscape. "That we do. That we do." He said softly as his optics focused on some far off object, lost in his troubled thoughts for the moment. His companion never took his optics off Jazz.

"So what brings you to these parts then, Autobot?" The younger blue and grey mech asked. His tone was serious and laced with mistrust as he curiously eyed Jazz, his blaster aimed steadily at Jazz's chest.

"Ah'm just passin through." Jazz said with a shrug, shrewdly eyeing the two mechs before continuing, "Ah'm heading towards the Autobot outpost that was raided."

An uneasy silence descended on the small group outside the camp entrance as the two Neutrals looked at each other for a moment before turning to Jazz. . Jazz shifted his position, his interest peaked by the worried look on the older mech's faceplate and the anger in the younger's. They knew something.

The older mech subspaced his weapon and motioned towards the younger bot to do the same. The younger Neutral cast a final glance at Jazz before subspacing his weapon with a grunt. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Jazz.

"Yes, we heard about that. We had friends staying there, some had family staying there. They are all dead." The older mech said, his voice gruff with raw emotion as he thought about the poor Neutrals who had died for no reason at all except being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"And there's rumour that the fraggers who did this are still in the area!" The younger mech barked out, his noble accent thick with anger, hurt and frustration.

"Tracks! Calm yourself!" the older mech berated. Tracks scowled at the older mech before hanging his head in submission, looking pointedly towards the east.

Jazz straightened at the outburst of the younger mech. He definitively knew something, and Jazz had a feeling that something was in an easterly direction. "Still in the area? One would think they'd have cleared off after the attack." Jazz probed.

The older mech fidgeted uncomfortably and cast the younger mech a stern glance as Jazz waited for an answer. It was obvious to Jazz that the two were communicating privately over their comms. For a moment Jazz was tempted to hack into their comm. lines, but refrained himself. These were Neutrals, and by the looks of things they had been having a rough time coping, they didn't need someone hacking their comms. He'd get the information somehow.

The silent battle between the two sentries finally came to an end as the young mech turned on his heels and stormed off, leaving the older mech and Jazz staring at his retreating form. The older mech sighed and turned back to Jazz, the friendly twinkle in his optics having disappeared behind a cloud of anxiety and fear.

"Rumours have been circulating, but they always do. There is nothing here. The outpost lies in that direction," he pointed his clawed hand in the direction north-east of Jazz. "Best be on your way stranger." He slowly retreated; not taking his old, shrewd optics off Jazz as he slowly resumed his duty as sentinel to the haggard Neutral camp.

Jazz gave a small nod of understanding and transformed, saddened by the tiered look in the old mech's optics. The war held no favourites or respect of persons. It stole life wherever it wanted, from whom it wanted regardless of faction. He turned towards the north-east. _Rumours have to start from somewhere_. He thought and sped off in the direction the old mech was kind enough to point him into, determined to return to a little snooping once he was out of the old mech's sight.

Jazz drove along smoothly when his sensors suddenly alerted him to a presence coming towards him at an alarming speed. Jazz swore and transformed, arming himself as he did so and awaited the newcomer. He didn't have long to wait as a sleek, blue and grey alt-mode sped towards him. Jazz replaced his weapons and folded his arms over his chassis, waiting for the Neutral to reach him.

Once the Neutral was close enough he transformed and stood before Jazz. He balled his fists at his side and his optics shone with anger and hurt as he stared at Jazz. "I can take you to them. I know where they are." He grated out between clenched denta. "But on one condition."

Jazz stared at the young, resolute mech standing like a taunt statue before him. He hadn't expected the young mech to talk without some form of persuasion, and he also hadn't suspected conditions. He hated conditions. He was supposed to deliver conditions and threats. It felt odd receiving one for a change. Yet his instincts told him to accept it, since he was running out of time and he really needed to get back to Iacon. Besides, this was a Neutral after all. He couldn't make use of his 'special talents' to get the answer, though he was sorely tempted. He sighed in resignation as he flicked his clawed hand in annoyance. "Fine. Name yer condition."

"You take me with you."

Jazz stared at the young mech, a frown decorating his handsome faceplate as he contemplated the condition. He spoke his thoughts out loud. "That it?" _No pay me this or give me that? _This certainly was a change from the normal bargaining he was used to with Neutrals. Suspicion suddenly shot into him and curled itself around his spark. _What's yer plan mech?_

The young mech nodded, his resolve strengthened as he continued staring at Jazz. He was going with, no matter what the Autobot said.

"Why?" Jazz asked. He might be a Neutral, but for all he knew he could be a Decepticon spy or a Neutral forced to lead him into a trap, and Jazz wasn't willing to take any chances. Not when his life was on the line.

"That is none of your business." The mech growled as he folded his arms over his chest, stubbornly staring at Jazz.

"Damn right it's mah business. Ah don't know ya, and ya might just as well be some crazy spy trying to lure me into some form of trap. It's happened before and once was enough." Jazz might have said it in a friendly, joking tone, yet underneath that tone the Neutral caught the serious threat being delivered.

"It's personal. I had," the mech looked around him to avoid Jazz's optics, "_friends_ at the Autobot outpost." He finished as his voice dissolved into static. He drew a few ragged breaths through his vents to he tried to regain his composure. "So let us just say it is payback."

Jazz thought about what he had said. His instincts told him that what this mech said was true, his grief was visible in his optics, and Jazz had seen grief enough to realise when it's an imposter or not, and this was no imposter. Yet he still didn't know anything about the mech. His training told him to be careful, but he didn't have time to spare. He had already lost at least a cycle thanks to Sideswipe's verbal and physical abuse of their little stealth ship, so did he really have a choice?

"Tell me what ya know." Jazz demanded, his voice hard as he sized up the mech.

"Not until you agree." The Neutral shot back, he too was sizing Jazz up in a silent challenge.

The two bots held the stare, neither willing to give in to the other's demands. They stood like that for a breem, oblivious to Cybertron's winds whipping around them and stirring rust into swirreling patterns and the haunting cry of cyber foxes as they scavenged the land for scraps to eat.

Finally the Neutral deflated, giving in to Jazz's demands. "They're to the east, about half a cycle's hard driving." He said. "But that's all I'm saying."

"It's a start. How'd ya find them?" Jazz asked.

"After we heard what happened to the outpost, I set out to go see for myself. On my way, I saw a hovering copter – Decepticon by its markings – I hid and followed at a distance. I think they were five or maybe six in total. I didn't go close enough to know for sure. I'm not suicidal and I didn't want them to detect me. I watched them make camp and then returned to the settlement."

"Why didn't ya report it?" Jazz asked. The mech's story sounded legit, but still, rather err on the side of caution than on the side of death, or worse, capture.

The mech through his hands and the air, making an annoyed sound as he answered Jazz. "I did! But we are Neutrals! These areas have been attacked and we have lost many good mechs! The elders of the settlement didn't want to become involved. If those Decepticons should somehow discover that we sent a message to the Autobots, telling you of their location, how long do you think our settlement would have lasted?"

Jazz tilted his head to the side, acknowledging the explanation. "Yeah Ah can see that." He sighed again as he turned towards the east. He stood staring into the distance for a moment before shouting over his shoulder.

"Ya know Ah'm not gonna be watchin' yer aft, right?" Jazz drawled as he tilted his head regarding the young mech.

"I didn't ask you to. I simply want to go with you." He replied, unballing his fists at his sides and flexing his servos staring at Jazz's back.

"Fine. Keep up." With that Jazz transformed and sped towards his destination. The younger mech gave a howl of surprise before he too transformed and raced after Jazz, pushing his engines to keep up.

Jazz relaxed slightly as he felt the wind glide over his plating. They had been driving hard for nearly half a cycle and he knew that they needed to stop soon, both for rest and because they were approaching the location of their targets. Jazz slowed and waited for the Neutral to catch up.

After a couple of clicks the young mech stopped and transformed, leaning his hands on his knees as he dragged air through his ventilators. "Phew, you're fast." He puffed.

Jazz smirked at the young mech. He prided himself on his speed and sleek alt-form. "Need to be, mech, need to be." He waited for the mech to straighten out before he spoke again. "Ok, this is how it's gonna work. One, yer gonna tell me yer name. Two, yer gonna tell me everythin' ya know. Three, ya follow my orders to the T. Four, don't screw up. Ya got all that?" He looked at the younger mech.

The Neutral nodded. "Name, details, orders, no screwing. Yeah I got it." He said and remained quiet.

Jazz shuttered his optics and huffed an irritated sigh. "Then tell me yer name."

"Oh right," the Neutral gave a brief shake of his head as if to clear it. "My name's Tracks. I've already told you about what I saw. The last co-ordinates I saved in my databanks are 8.2"5.2'. If we continue on this road to those co-ordinates, we ought to arrive undetected." He finished and looked expectantly at Jazz.

"Ok, Tracks, lead the way." Jazz said as both he and Tracks transformed. He fell behind Tracks and observed him while throwing his sensor net wide in case of enemy ambush.

Jazz had been reviewing what Tracks had said since they left the Neutral camp. He had mentioned a hovercraft, and possibly five or six mechs. To Jazz that sounded like the gestalt team from the Pit. _Combaticons._ He thought wearily, a bitter taste rising in his mouth. It was the only team of Decipticons that had a hovercraft on their team, it was also one of the only teams capable of the level of destruction reported at the sights. What bothered Jazz more was that if it was the Combaticons, _why_ were they here, fighting Neutrals and Autobot outposts when they were a frontliner team? What purpose did that serve?

Tracks slowed to a halt and transformed, motioning Jazz to do the same. In the distance a small light could be seen and boisterous voices heard. _Jip, that definitely sounds like Brawl. _Jazz grimaced. _Frag._

:Sideswipe, come in. Do ya read me?:: Jazz waited a few clicks, but the ship's comm. line remained stubbornly quiet. Jazz tried the same with Sideswipe's comm. line, but without success. "Frag." Jazz swore. Should he and Tracks be discovered, there was no way he could take on the Combaticons on his own.

Tracks waited for Jazz to talk to him. "Well? Are we going to take them on or not?" He asked haughtily.

Jazz gave a mirthless chuckle. "NO, we will most definitely not be takin' on these slaggers. This is recon only."

"Recon? I thought you were here to alleviate us of this problem." Tracks responded, annoyance bleeding through his words.

"If ya want _them_ to _alleviate_ Cybertron from _yer_ presence, be mah guest." Jazz replied, "Now remember rule number three. Ya follow mah orders. So first things first, give me yer comm. number. We need to be able to communicate with each other." Jazz waited as Tracks sent a small databurst through to him, then activated their comm. lines.

::Ah need ya to insert this into yer medport:: Jazz handed Tracks a small, grey device and then continued to open his own medical port and inserted another grey device into his own arm. ::It's a dampener. Will keep ya from bein' detected through yer spark signature.::

Tracks took the small device and implanted it into his arm's medical port, feeling a small tingling sensation as both his and Jazz's spark signatures disappeared from his scanner. _This will need some getting used to._ He thought.

Jazz nodded and turned his attention back to the small camp, debating whether it would be safer to leave the Neutral here or take him with him. He cast one more look at the eager Neutral and decided the former would be better. The last thing he needed was an over-zealous, trigger-happy, revenge-seeking Neutral to land both their afts in trouble.

:: Stay low, stay here and stay undetected. This group is known as the Combaticons. They're an elite Decepticon group. Ya do not want them to get a hold of you, 'specially not the copter.:: Jazz said as he slowly stalked closer to the Combaticon group. Tracks gave an irritated sigh, but thankfully remained where he was.

The crisp night air gently shifted around Jazz as he weaved like a cybercat through the scarred landscape towards the crude camp the Decepticons had made, ducking behind debris and natural outcroppings as he inched closer.

The sound of the Combaticons laughing and celebrating their annihilation of the Autobot outpost and the smell of highgrade rose to meet Jazz's senses as he halted mere metres from their camp. The Combaticons were so lost in their celebrations that they had neglected to place someone on guard duty. Not that Jazz was complaining. It made his job a Pit lot easier.

Jazz quietly settled behind an outcropping and tuned his hearing into the Combaticon's conversations, grimacing as they recalled some gorier details of their latest massacre. Jazz listened for nearly twenty breems before Swindle's winy voice rose above Brawl's boisterous one.

"I'm telling you, I'm sick of this!" Swindle wailed.

"Why Swindle, here I thought you were exuberant making a profit from all the parts you've been able to steal." Vortex's chimed in, his voice swinging in pitch like an outdated metronome.

"I am, but the accommodation seems to be lacking for a mech of my worth." He whined. "I wish Soundwave would recall us, but no, we're stuck here because some con couldn't keep his slaggin' paws off Soundwave's creations!"

"What? I don't recall Frenzy complaining." Vortex said, his voice pitched higher as he sang the words in his own deluded style.

"Yeah! Because he couldn't!" Brawl cut in, laughing again as he recalled the memory.

"Enough!" Onslaught bellowed, his red optics glowing with the effects of being overenergized. "We are here to complete the mission. The sooner that fragger back in Iacon makes his move the better."

Jazz perked up at the mention of Iacon. So there was an infiltrator. Praying that his luck would hold true, he crept silently closer, straining his hearing to catch every last scrap of valuable information. He was nearly close enough to see them.

"Yeah, he sure is taking his time. How many more camps are we going to raid? Why doesn't he just hack the mainframe and get it done with?" Swindle's grating voice rose once again into the night sky like a cybercat's annoying caterwaul.

"Now, now Swindle, no need to get impatient! You know only three officers have access to the mainframe!" Vortex sang as he took another swig of his highgrade, "So our little informer has to get the officer to connect to the main-frame without blowing his cover!"

Jazz's spark flipped in his chassis as he thought of that statement. _Only an officer has access. Prowl's one of the three that has access to the mainframe._ Jazz shut his optics tightly, the pieces slowly coming together in his mind. Prowl had access to the mainframe, which meant that the virus or whatever was infecting his system was meant for the mainframe._ Slag it to the Pit._ Jazz slowly got up and started to move away from the campsite. He got what he came for, now he had to fall back and report as quickly as possible. Jazz froze as Blast Off's voice cut through the night sky like a knife, halting him in his tracks and filling him with dread.

BREAK

"Look what I found!" Blast Off said as he threw Tracks into the centre of the Combaticons' gathering. "A Neutral spy."

Tracks landed with a thud on the ground. "Hey! Watch the paint!" He snarled at the over-sized Decepticon, sitting upright and dusting the rust off his topcoat as the bemused optics of the Combaticons fell on him.

888

Jazz leaned back against an outcropping. _Frag it to the Pit and back! What part of stay low and undetected didn't ya understand?_ Jazz scanned his surroundings, trying to determine what to do. He had vital information he needed to report to Iacon, and he had a Neutral who was being held prisoner by the Combaticons. The Neutral knew of his presence, thank Primus he didn't know his designation, but if Vortex had a go at him, they would discover that sooner or later anyway. However, as an Autobot, he was obligated to help Tracks, since it was because of Jazz he was here in the first place. Well, mostly because of him. And what made matters worse, he had no slaggin backup.

::Sideswipe? Can ya hear me?:: he tried his comm. only to be answered by static. He leaned his head back and sighed. "Ethics." He whispered and got up.

8888

Onslaught rose, his mighty form towering over the young Neutral as he stalked closer, his faceplate contorted into a gloating, ominous mask. "Well, well, well, if this is not a gift from Primus to reward us for our hard work." He purred. Behind him Vortex stood, watching the Neutral with unadultred lust.

"The only thing you'll be getting from me is a blaster in the face!" Tracks retorted as his arm transformed, his blaster whining as it charged. Onslaught's face hardened as the other Combaticons drew their weapons and aimed at the pathetic Neutral.

"Feisty, isn't he?" Vortex chimed, "Can I keep him? Please, oh please?" Vortex cackled, bouncing from one pede to the other. "Think of all the fun we could have!"

Tracks felt the first tendrils of fear trickle down his spinal struts. Jazz's warning of the copter came bubbling up unbidden to the front of his processor as he aimed his blaster at Onslaught's chest.

The Combaticon leader folded his arms over his broad chest and smirked at the Neutral, unaffected at the blaster targeting his chest. "That all you've got weakling? Now tell us, what brings you here?"

"Lower your weapons or I will shoot." He grated, setting his jaw stubbornly as he stared at Onslaught, fighting down the fear that licked at his processor.

Onslaught's feature's darkened. "Last chance Neutral." His words resounded like a death knell as he stepped towards Tracks. Tracks shrunk back at Onslaughts menacing figure. _Where the slag's an Autobot when you need one?_

The world around them suddenly exploded into white as a deafening roar reverberated through the ground and into their frames. The Combaticons dove for cover as another bomb exploded to their right, cursing vehemently at the unknown source.

Rough hands quickly grabbed Tracks and dragged him to his pedes, pushing him forward as a furious voice shouted in his ear. "What part of '_don't screw this up'_ didn't ya understand? Ya have any idea what slag ya put us in? Transform and drive!"

Jazz and Tracks transformed and gunned their engines, praying to Primus that the bombs would disorient the combiner team long enough to allow them a smooth escape. No such luck. A terrifying shriek of anger ripped through the air followed by the sound of transforming mechs. Jazz shouted at Tracks to go faster. "The only chance we have is to outrun them!"

Their path was suddenly blocked by the appearance of a very pissed Blast Off as he landed in front of them. Jazz and Tracks swerved to the right to try and avoid the shots being fired at them, but instead of an open path they came face to face with the Combaticon's notorious interrogator.

Vortex stood gleefully smiling at them in all his glorious insanity as he aimed his blaster at them. "Wait a moment, we haven't been introduced yet! You're being rude!" His visor glinted crimson red as he fired two shots, cackling like one possessed as his shots went wide.

Jazz and Tracks slammed on their breaks and skidded to a stop before gunning in the opposite direction, but were stopped short with Brawl's cannon blasts. They swerved again, only to be blocked by Onslaught and Swindle. They transformed and stood back to back, surrounded by the Combaticons.

"Frag," Jazz cursed under his breath, eyeing the Combaticons and any possible means of escape. Had it only been him, escape would have been much easier to achieve, however, with an inexperienced Neutral in tow... Jazz grimaced. Their chances weren't very high at escaping this one unscathed.

"So, any plans?" Tracks asked over his shoulder while eyeing an encroaching Vortex. He shifted subtly towards Jazz to put more space between him and the sadist who was still cackling wildly.

"Nah, not really." Jazz returned, his processor working overtime to try and device a feasible plan which would get the both of them out as he watched Onslaught approach. Jazz armed his own weapon and Tracks followed his example. "At least we ain't goin' down without a fight." Jazz stated enthusiastically.

"And who do we have here? A lost Autobot?" Onslaught sneered at them as the other Combaticons sniggered like hyenas at the two surrounded mechs.

"Last time Ah checked Ah was." Jazz quipped back. If he could just buy a little more time…

::Yo Jazz, me and the little glitch sorted our slag out.::

_Sideswipe! Thank Primus_. Relief flooded Jazz at the sound of that welcome voice. Jazz gently nudged Tracks with his elbow, careful not to draw attention. ::Tracks, keep them talking for a few clicks:: Tracks nudged him back in acknowledgement and turned towards Onslaught. "I had nothing to do with this! This was all his idea! He forced me! I'm just a Neutral" Tracks moaned at Onslaught as he holstered his weapon and held his hands up in defence.

Jazz took the opportunity and opened his link with Sideswipe. ::Yo Sides. In a bit of a tangle at the moment. Think ya could help out?:: Jazz asked Sideswipe

::Already? That's got to be a new record and we're not even at the outpost yet. How the frag do you outrank almost every other bot?:: Sideswipe asked incredulously.

::Secret of the trade. My location's 8.3"5.4'. Got Combaticons here. How fast can you get here?:: Jazz asked. The Combaticons were drawing closer, thankfully still distracted by Tracks' pleas for mercies and vague explanations about why he was caught in the middle of nowhere in the presence of an Autobot.

There was a quick pause as Sideswipe calculated the time required to reach them. ::I can be there in half a breem, but Jazz, if these are the Combaticons, you need to get out of there. As much as I'd love a fight right now, the Bat's are a bit much if we want to get back to Iacon.::

::Ah know. There's another mech with me. You need to create a distraction so that we can bolt. Then ya got to pick us up on the fly.:: Jazz said. It was a risky plan, but it wasn't as if they had any other options.

::On the fly? Damn, Jazz, now I know you're crazy.:: Sideswipe said as he calculated the speed and height he would need to fly in order to get them both into the hatch. He frowned at the results. ::How the frag are you going to manage that?::

::Ah'll think about that when we get there!:: Jazz said as he stared into the darkness, thankful for the visor hiding his optics as he looked for the small, black stealth ship. He turned his attention back to the Combaticons. All were laughing and goading at Tracks' pathetic pleas, except for Onslaught. He was watching Jazz with an intensity that made Jazz suspect Onslaught had an inkling that backup was coming.

"Enough!" Onslaught bellowed. "We have no need for the Neutral. Kill him, but tie the other one. I think I recognise him." Onslaught said as he rubbed his chin, staring intently at the visored Autobot.

::Uhm, Jazz, a plan would really be great right about now:: Tracks desperately commed him.

::Then get ready to roll when we get the signal!:: Jazz shot back as he inserted himself between Blast Off and Tracks. He smiled slightly as he heard a familiar, barely audible buzz of engines. "Hey Ons, Ah got a question for ya." Jazz shouted at Onslaught.

"I've no time for your questions Autobot." Onslaught returned as he motioned Brawl forward with the stasis cuffs.

"Ah think ya might like this one." Jazz went on, "How'd ya like your Combaticons? Fried or toasted?"

Onslaught's face clouded in confusion. "What?" he asked dumbstruck at Jazz's peculiar question. Jazz, however didn't have time to answer as two missiles shot out of the dark heading straight for Onslaught.

"Incoming!" Swindle shouted as he turned his blaster in the missiles' direction and opened fire. The Combaticons swung round to face the newest threat as Jazz shoved Tracks forward. ::Pick up's here! We need to get ahead of him! He's gonna pick us up on the go!:: Jazz shouted at Tracks as they transformed and raced ahead of the small shuttle.

Sideswipe kept the barrage of missiles and shots up to distract the Combaticons as he gave the order for the hatch to open. A warning sign shrieked in the cockpit when the hatch disengaged, throwing the cockpit into a red glow. "Shut up you glitch." He shouted at the little ship as he decreased altitude and speed. Up ahead he saw Jazz and another mech race ahead of him. He grimaced as he realised his altitude and speed was too high and too fast for them to successfully get into the hatch.

::Jazz, I'm flying too high and too fast for you! I need to come in for another round!:: he shouted over the comm.

Jazz hesitated for a second. ::Got ya.:: He commed to Sideswipe then changed the frequency to Tracks' comm. link. ::Tracks, our rides flying too high and fast. He's coming in for another try. Be ready.::

::Get on my back!:: Tracks commed Jazz as he inched closer to Jazz.

::'Xcuse me?:: Jazz asked, equal amounts of scepticism and surprise ringing in his voice.

::I said, get on my back! Now!:: Tracks moved into position next to Jazz.

_Ok, _Jazz thought as he manoeuvred closer to tracks and transformed, using his momentum to grab onto Tracks back. He slammed his claws into transformation seems as he nearly toppled off on the other side. ::Be careful of the paint!:: Tracks shouted as Jazz righted himself.

Jazz watched in surprise as wing-like appendages came out of Tracks' sides and he accelerated. ::Ya can fly? Why the slag didn't ya tell me earlier?::

::It didn't come up until now. Damn you're heavier than you look!:: Tracks groaned as he lifted off the ground and adjusted his balance.

::Hey! Ah ain't that heavy!:: Jazz countered, but ducked closer to Tracks' roof as shots came blazing by his head, singing past his auditory horns much to close for comfort. ::Sideswipe, we're coming up to get you. Is the hatch open?::

::How are you go…? What the Frag?:: Sideswipe said as they came into view. ::Since when does ground-pounders have wings?::

::Sideswipe! That's not important right now!:: Jazz shouted as another shot grazed his arm. _Damn ya Blast Off._ He thought as he grabbed his arm, turning around and firing a couple of shots at the Combaticon. They were so close to the shuttle. Jazz briefly took his optics off the Combaticons and eyed the shuttle's hatch, considering their entrance. ::Ok Tracks, get me close to the hatch, Ah'll jump in and grab ya when ya transform.:: He said as he fired a couple more shots at the Combaticons. Vortex was closing in fast. _Come on, we can't get caught in one of Vortex's tornadoes._

::Alright, we're the closest I can get us.:: Tracks said as he levelled with the shuttle. Jazz fired two more rounds at Vortex when his blaster seized. "Frag…?" he started at his blaster and gave it a slap, trying to get it to work again. ::Jazz! Jump!:: Tracks shouted and Jazz dropped the blaster and jumped, catching the hatch and swinging himself in. He turned and grabbed the frame.

::Tracks, transform and jump!:: Jazz shouted back at him, holding out his hand at the Neutral.

Tracks transformed midair and grabbed for Jazz's hand just as Vortex shot off a couple of rounds, piercing the sides of the little stealth shuttle with alarming accuracy.

Tracks cried out in pain as a shot went through his upper shoulder, causing him to let go of Jazz's hand. Jazz held on to Tracks and dragged his writhing form into the ship, cursing Vortex. ::Tracks! Ya wounded bad?:: Jazz asked as he headed towards the hatch again. He armed his blaster and aimed.

::Nothing too bad.:: Tracks chocked out, grimacing as he held his hand over the seeping wound. He groaned as the ship angled up as Sideswipe tried to gain more altitude so they could get out of the grounded Combaticon's firing range.

Jazz nodded as he locked target on Vortex and fired. A single round fired before his blaster jammed again. "Frag. Sideswipe! Ya got an extra blaster with ya?" He shouted.

"No! And this ship's out of ammo!" Sideswipe hollered back, just as another volley of shots embedded them into the ship's side, making the small ship shudder in despair. "Get those fragging Combaticons off our tail! We're taking more damage than this ship can handle! She's throwing me warning signs like it's going out of fashion." The sound of creaking metal emphasized Sideswipe's words as the little ships engines sputtered.

Jazz desperately raked his mind for any means to get the Combaticons off his tail. He had to get to Iacon. This was more than just Neutral camps being attacked or Prowl's life being at stake, if the Decepticons got access to the mainframe, it would lead to access across all the basis and into every nook and cranny of the autobot online system. Their files, war plans, army position, infiltrators, _everything_. He couldn't let that happen. Jazz drew a ragged breath as he reached into subspace, drawing out Wheeljack's latest weapons invention. He swung behind the hatch as a few more shots pierced the ship's sides. Raising the blaster, he leaned his head against the barrel and closed his optics. _Primus please don't let this thing explode!_ He stood up and swung himself into the open hatch, aiming at Blast Off and Vortex. He steeled himself as he gently squeezed the trigger. The next moment he hit the far wall with a resounding _crack_, casting him into momentary darkness.

His optics rebooted as he heard Sideswipe shout excitedly out of the cabin, "Jazz you son of a glitch! Whatever you did it worked! Blast Off's down and the shot took Vortex out as well. Damn that was good!"

Jazz sat up and leaned against the wall, staring out of the hatch. "Frag me it actually works." Jazz whispered dumbstruck. He'd have to commend Wheeljack on this weapon, after he tweaked it just a bit. The thing had a glitch of a recoil. Jazz got up slowly, using the wall as support before pushing off and heading to Tracks.

Tracks groaned as Jazz approached him, holding his shoulder with his hand. "It's fine. It stopped bleeding. Bastards ruined my finish. And it was such a lovely paint job." He grimaced, though Jazz wasn't sure if it was because of the paint or because of the wound. Jazz gave him a quick look over and scanned his vitals.

"Ah think ya'll be ok for a few clicks. Ah need to talk to Sides. After that Ah'll patch yer wound." Jazz said and headed for the cockpit. The cockpit was still bathed in red light, its monitors blaring red warning signs of damages incurred and beeped in irritation that they weren't being tended to.

"Ship still holding up ok?" Jazz asked Sideswipe as he took the empty seat next to him.

"For the moment. She ought to get us back to Iacon if we don't push her too much." Sideswipe returned as he entered more commands into the ship's system.

"Ah need to get an urgent message through to Iacon. Where's her comm. system?" Jazz said as he searched for the mentioned instruments before turning to Sideswipe.

There was an awkward pause as Sideswipe puckered his lips and raised his optic ridges. "There not working." He said quickly, then focused all his attention on the screen before him, effectively ignoring Jazz's presence.

Jazz gave Sideswipe and unimpressed stare. "Sideswipe, why ain't the comms working?" he asked flat after he realised Sideswipe wasn't going to go into more detail.

"I really don't know. It was one of the things that just decided to randomly not work in this precious hunk of junk you wish to call a lady." Sideswipe accentuated the last ten words by jabbing at the keyboard on the operating console, his irritation bleeding through. He didn't mention some of the wires might have accidently been fried when he was rewiring her engine, but Jazz didn't need to know that. All that mattered, unfortunately, was that the comm. system was not working.

Jazz sighed again, and dropped his voice. "So there's no way to get an urgent message through to Iacon." He raised his hand and rubbed it over his face.

Sideswipe stared at the operating console, his voice lowered to match Jazz's. "Nope, not through the comms. I'll push her as hard as I dare, but, there's no way to reach Iacon except through our own comm. systems, and they only work at close range."

"How about yer bond with Sunny? Can ya reach him?" Jazz asked hopefully, leaning forward in his chair.

"Nope, he's recharging like a sparkling. But if he wakes up I'll try to alert him, though we're a bit far apart for such direct communication."

Jazz sat for a few moments staring out the window in front of him, watching absently as the barren landscape flew past them in a blur of metallic colours. Defeat gnawed at his fuel tanks as he thought about the consequences of the comm. system being down. It was at least two cycles back to Iacon, maybe three with the current condition of their ship. The Combaticons could already have contacted Soundwave and alerted him to the possibility that their plan had been foiled. Best case scenario, they call it off. Worst case, they speed it up. Jazz leaned back in his chair, mindful of his wounded arm. _Slag it. Prowl please be careful._ He thought as he got up to tend to Track's wounds.

BREAK

"Warning: plan discovered. Recommend: act immediately." The monotone voice sounded through the dark room.

"Immediately? Uh, yes, Sir" The figure hesitated for a moment, considering his following words. "But I require advice on another matter. There is a possible threat to my identity. What do you recommend?"

"Recommend: exterminate threat if it interferes with primary objectives."

The figure was silent; he was interfering, and everything was planned and ready for his untimely death, from the meeting place to the type of death. All that remained for him to do was to act. If it was done correctly, his cover would hold and the other mech would be blamed for everything that was going to happen. _Perfect. _He smiled softly before turning to the monitor, staring at the red visor of his superior. "Consider it done."

* * *

And we're moving towards the end... :) Reviews are appreciated


	11. Chapter 11

Author notes: My apologies for the long time it took to post this, but I had a brush in with lightning while on a mountain hike so I've been recovering. And aside from my shocking experience on the Drakensberg mountains, RL has also been busier than usual. I must warn you that this month will also be beyond busy, so an update may only appear next month (and it will probably be the last chapter).

My sincerest thanks to everybody for reading this and who favoured/followed it. A special thanks to Aurrawings, SunnySidesofBlue, Autobot Chromia, Randomstrike, iNsAnE nO bAkA, EmperialGem21, ProwlHawthorne, Guest, Shizuka Taiyou, and M-Lo Sixteen for their reviews. 3

Lastly, thanks to Lani for beta-ing this chapter for me!

* * *

I'll Be There 11

Prowl's optics blinked online as his recharge protocols ended their cycle. The room was dark as he sat up and stretched, flexing his doorwings from their cramped position. He checked his chronometer and was surprised to find that at least two cycles had passed since the last time he checked his chronometer.

He frowned. He remembered Smokescreen bringing him to his room and laying him on his berth, and that was it. He checked his comm. and sure enough two messages waited for him. One message was from Smokescreen, asking him to keep him updated on his health, the other was from Ratchet. Prowl grimaced at Ratchet's curt order to come see him the minute he was conscious enough to drag his aft to the medbay, or Ratchet would do it for him.

Prowl sent a short databurst to Smokescreen assuring him that he was alright and exited his room. Outside he hesitated; he should be getting back to the tactical division to analyse the data of the recent attacks. Jazz ought to have relayed some of the information by this time and he didn't want to waste any time analysing it, yet to avoid Ratchet when one had already received a warning or rather, threat from the CMO was very unwise.

Prowl straightened his shoulders determinedly and headed in the direction of the medbay. The sooner Ratchet saw to him the better.

The medbay was thankfully quiet as Prowl entered, the doors sliding shut on their own accord as if sealing his fate. He marched towards Ratchet's office and knocked discreetly.

"Unless you're half-dead, go away!" came the gruff, irritated reply through the closed door.

Prowl kept his face impassive as he entered his override code into Ratchet's door lock. The door yielded to his authoritarian rule and slid open, revealing a very peeved medic.

"You asked to see me as soon as was convenient." Prowl stated as he stepped inside, allowing the door to close behind him. "I wish to get the matter over with as I need to get back to my office."

Ratchet growled as he threw down the datapad he had been filing. "Don't you ever use your override codes in my medbay again." Ratchet stated coolly, his glacial voice carrying with it an icy promise of doom towards the tactician.

Prowl didn't appear fazed in the least. He simply looked at Ratchet with the same nonplussed expression he always wore. "You did not appear in a hurry to open the door, and since I have already informed you of my need to hurry, I deemed…"

"Cut it! I'm also in a Primus-damned hurry to finish my reports so get on the berth." Ratchet waved towards a berth outside as he wove past Prowl, still growling irritably under his voice about irritating tacticians and slagging reports as he reached for his scanner.

Prowl obliged wordlessly as he climbed on the berth, lying down to give Ratchet better access to his neck-base ports. Silence reigned supreme between the fuming medic and the stoic tactician as Ratchet ran his scanner on the latter's frame.

"You're scans show extra activity in your battle computer. Have you been using it more than usual lately?" Ratchet asked as he jacked his medical port into Prowl's and searched for the battle computer. Prowl's firewalls immediately came up and barred Ratchet, causing his ill-temper to flare again, but instead of doing the ethical thing and asking the tactician to disable his firewalls he chose to override it using medical protocols.

Prowl slightly arched an optic ridge at the override, but was wise enough not to comment on it. "I have been using my battle computer lately, but no more than usual. The pain in my processor had been emanating from my battle computer since I onlined this morning."

Ratchet stilled his mental inspection of Prowl's battle computer long enough to send a wave of irritability through his connection. "Since you onlined? Care to tell me why the slag you didn't inform me of it as I requested?" his voice rising with every word until he was bellowing like a wounded buffalo.

"I did not think it of importance as I was still functioning at acceptable levels. Also, my battle computer did not warn me of any problems." Prowl replied calmly, yet his optics grew a shade darker at the medic's tone.

Ratchet leaned over the table, his face bare inches from Prowl's as he puffed steam out of his vents. "Prowl," he seethed, "_I_ will decide when you are at _functional_ level! Do you think that we have been monitoring whatever slag's in your system for some kind of fraggin' relaxation?"

Prowl stared back at Ratchet, a slight frown settling his features and determination shining from his eyes as he challenged Ratchet. "I am aware of your monitoring of my condition at present, and Jumpstart did download the data and analyse it. However, I _am_ still functional and I am still second in command of the Autobots. As long as I am within functional parameters, I will serve and fulfil my duties irrespective of my condition."

They stared at each other for an intense moment. Ratchet exhaled air slowly as he shook his head. "You're a slagger. You know that?" He asked the tactician, his temper cooling down slightly. He leaned away from Prowl as he withdrew his cable and motioned Prowl to sit upright.

"I've completed my scans, and apart from the extra activity in your battle computer which I will compare with the results from Jumpstart, you can get out of my medbay." Ratchet said as he folded his arms over his chest, motioning towards the door with his head.

Prowl climbed off the berth and inclined his head slightly towards Ratchet. "Thank-you." He said and strode out of the medbay.

Ratchet watched him go and gave an annoyed sigh. "Jumpstart!" He barked over his shoulder at his apprentice.

Jumpstart scurried towards Ratchet. "You called, sir?" he asked softly.

Ratchet motioned for Jumpstart to follow him as he strode towards his office. Once inside he seated himself and waited for Jumpstart to do the same.

"Alright. What do you have on Prowl?" Ratchet asked folding his hands before him and glaring at Jumpstart, his ire from before leaking through his voice as he thought about the irksome tactician.

Jumpstart nervously shifted in his chair and produced the datapad from subspace and handed it to Ratchet, painfully aware of his mentor's foul mood. "I have been monitoring his systems. I do believe there is a virus present, but I'm having trouble isolating it. It seems to have incorporated itself into his system, except for his battle computer. It appears to be dormant. It might be waiting for a signal or activation code. I'm not sure."

"Activation code?" Ratchet asked as he scanned the contents of the datapad. "Then why is it interfering with Prowl's systems?" Ratchet placed the datapad on his desk for later perusal.

Jumpstart hesitated a moment, trying to find the right words. "I'm not positively sure I know the answer to that question," he paused as Ratchet levelled him with a death stare, he shifted and quickly went on, "But I believe his battle computer has something to do with it. Each time his systems start acting up, his battle computer shows extra activity. The intensity of the attacks on his system has also decreased since the initial attack. This leads me to believe that his battle computer is adapting to the disease. It might even isolate the virus by itself." Jumpstart finished. He clasped his hands on his lap and waited for Ratchet to speak.

"You are doing a lot of believing and not a lot of facts." Ratchet finally said as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "We have to sort this out sooner rather than later. We cannot wait for his battle computer to _maybe_ sort this problem out. We don't know what the virus's intended purpose is and I'd rather not take chances." Ratchet rubbed his hands over his face and looked at Jumpstart, who sat nervously staring at his clenched hands, seemingly oblivious to Ratchet.

Ratchet watched him for a moment, taking in the young medic's nervous posture and slight fidgeting. Ratchet frowned. Jumpstart was a nervous mech by nature, but usually not to this extent. "Jumpstart." Ratchet said quietly.

Jumpstart started as Ratchet spoke his name and guiltily looked up. "Uhm, sorry, sir? Would you repeat that?"

Ratchet looked at Jumpstart, then asked in his straightforward manner. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Oh nothing, sir, I was just, uh, wondering about the possible function of the virus." Jumpstart stuttered as he unclasped his hands and sat up, avoiding optic contact.

Ratchet narrowed his optics at Jumpstart. "Jumpstart. If there is one thing that irritates me more than seeing one of the Twins in my medbay it's one of my medics lying to me."

"Lying! No sir! Never!" Jumpstart exclaimed as he stared incredulously at Ratchet. Ratchet held his stare until Jumpstart sagged back in his chair. "Well, it's, um, I'm no exactly sure what to make of it, but I don't think there's something wrong either." Jumpstart said as he rubbed the back of his neck, quickly glancing at Ratchet before looking away again.

"Go on." Ratchet said, his un-shuttering stare boring into the fidgeting young medic.

"I'm…meeting. With someone. After shift." Jumpstart said unsurely. He was torn between telling the truth and keeping his peace. He wanted to tell Ratchet everything, yet he only had suspicions. And as an ethical medical student, he was not allowed to draw conclusions without solid facts about a bot's character. Yet Ratchet was his mentor, and Codebreaker wasn't his patient. And another mech's life could depend on this. Jumpstart looked at Ratchet who only cocked an optic ridge at him.

"I've known a lot of bots who go on first dates, but they're usually never _this _nervous." Ratchet said as he leaned forward and cocked his head.

"It's not a date. He's an old acquaintance. Well, sort of acquaintance. We saw each other at Tyger Pax while I was still interning there. He was just…different. Never quite knew how to handle him." Jumpstart said more to himself than to Ratchet as he let out a shaky sigh. He looked at Ratchet. Maybe he should divulge just a bit of his suspicions. "He's different. Intimidating in a way, but one can never really say how or in which manner. He's…he's just, I don't know how to explain it. He's not what he seems, or I think he's not what he seems. I don't know." Jumpstart rubbed his hands over his face, trying to gather his thoughts, but they just became more blurred. He shuttered his optics as he held his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, sir. This is my problem." He said dismally.

Ratchet got up and walked around to Jumpstart, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Would you prefer me to stay after shift until he's gone?" he asked gruffly. For all his notorious reputation, he still cared deeply for each bot, not just his patients, but his staff as well, even though he frequently ranted and threw inanimate objects at them.

Jumpstart looked up at Ratchet, contemplating whether or not to accept Ratchet's offer. All he had was suspicions. No facts, no evidence of why he had his suspicion. He might be wrong for all he knew. He also knew Ratchet needed the rest, and Wheeljack had already been in the medbay twice asking when Ratchet would be off-duty. It would be unfair of him to keep Ratchet when his shift was supposed to be over. He thought of the Neto-Anectine shot in his subspace. If his suspicions proved to be correct and Codebreaker tried anything, he would use it. He shivered slightly at the thought.

Ratchet gently squeezed Jumpstart's shoulder, feeling the tension in the young medic. He was a good apprentice. Nervous, quiet, reserved, but an excellent medic. He sighed softly, thinking of his energon cube with Wheeljack and his warm, cozy berth. "I'll stay until he has left." Ratchet said.

Jumpstart snapped out of his reverie at Ratchet's words, guilt assaulting him at the tired look in his mentor's face. "Thank-you, sir, but I'll be fine, thanks. I'm just…not very good with strangers, but I'll be fine. I mean he works for Commander Prowl so he's…solid?" Jumpstart said with a lopsided smile, to assure both himself and Ratchet.

Ratchet eyed him a while longer then gave his shoulder a pat before moving towards the door of his office. "Very well, I'm going to refuel and get some recharge, but if that slagger tries anything you don't like, comm. me." He ordered sternly and walked out.

Jumpstart stared at the door for a moment, ensuring Ratchet had left before he removed the Neto-Anectine shot. He gently fingered the syringe holding the deadly drug as if it was a fragile artefact instead of an instrument of death. He shivered as he closed his fist over it, holding it close to his spark. "I'll be fine." He whispered softly to himself.

(Break)

Codebreaker straightened respectfully as Prowl, wings held high, strode purposefully into the office. Codebreaker quickly moved to the side of the console and grabbed his datapad, quickly upraising his commander to determine his state. Prowl appeared to be physically fine, and mentally better than the last time Codebreaker had seen him, yet by the way he held his wings it appeared his superior was somewhat, incensed, and even though his facial expression betrayed nothing, a Praxian's doorwings communicated volumes more than any facial expressions ever could. So Codebreaker decided it was best to be prepared to answer the second-in-command's questions as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Codebreaker," Prowl stopped and stood rigidly next to him, his voice curt with an underlying icy tone that only confirmed Codebreaker's previous suspicions of his commander's state. Codebreaker straightened even more at the tone as Prowl continued, "What has our field team reported?"

Codebreaker cleared his vocals, quickly running his processors through the best answer. He finally decided that the direct answer would be best. "Nothing, sir."

Prowl revved his engine in annoyance. "Nothing? They were due to be at the outpost at least five cycles ago, and they haven't reported yet?" His cool voice betrayed nothing, but his crystal blue optics darkened dangerously.

Codebreaker arched an optic ridge as he looked at the console, trying to ignore his superior's sharp field slapping against him. "I haven't received any feedback as yet, sir. Would you prefer I risk contacting the outpost?" Codebreaker asked. Since this mission was classified, they had opted not to use radio communication to ensure secrecy, and therefore he hadn't tried to send a transmission through to the outpost.

Codebreaker waited patiently for Prowl to answer him. "Yes, they should have reported by now. Use the embedded frequency as arranged." Prowl ordered as he folded his arms over his chest, staring intently at the console as if it, too, was defying his will.

Codebreaker's fingers flew over the keypad as he immediately set to work embedding the message into the transmission. "The open message enquires whether the help sent from Tyger Pax has arrived. Would you prefer I wait for an answer and send you the reply or…"

"I'll wait." Prowl stated curtly, icy optics focusing on the screen.

Codebreaker sighed inwardly and prayed to Primus that they answered quickly enough. He softly tapped his finger against the keypad as he waited for a response, trying to ignore the icy presence next to him. The console pinged as the outpost's message came through after two breems. _Finally._ Codebreaker thought and quickly decoded the encrypted message. He grimaced at the answer. Prowl was not going to be any happier about this. He turned the console towards Prowl and leaned back.

"It appears that they have failed to reach the outpost." He said softly, not quite looking at Prowl.

Prowl remained silent as he read the message on the console. It wasn't logical. Jazz was supposed to have arrived at the outpost five cycles and ten breems prior to the current time on his chronometer. A small spark of concern flickered inside of him, but he quickly extinguished it. Jazz was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was head of special ops and third in command, Prowl tried to remind himself, yet the uneasy feeling remained inside of him, the flickering spark turning into a small flame of concern and unease. Prowl turned to Codebreaker. "Find them, and report to me." He said and moved towards his office, his exasperation with Ratchet giving way to concern over Jazz.

Codebreaker watched Prowl's office door slide shut and sighed in frustration as he plopped down in his chair in front of the console. He was set to meet with Jumpstart at the end of the cycle, and he was looking forward to their chat as he had a few questions he needed to ask the jumpy medic, answers he desperately needed if he was going to save his own shell. Now, he was stuck tracking the third in command of the Autobot army, all because he had failed to establish radio contact at the set time. _Slagger,_ he thought angrily as he started entering the tracking codes of the ship they had taken.

The console reported no commissioned ship existed with those tracking numbers. Codebreaker frowned and extended the search to include all ships, active or not. His frown deepened as he noted the ship they had used was recently decommissioned due to unexplained technical problems. _Great. Just fragging great. Ship probably crashed or something._ He entered the ships logs and perused their contents. Even if a ship was decommissioned, it was still able to be tracked. His optic ridges shot high as he noted the last full transmission in the log was sent six cycles prior, yet the logs reported a failed attempt at a transmission about a cycle ago. _That's odd. At least the ships still going._

He leaned back in his chair, sharp optics focusing on his next course of action. Maybe the team had tried to communicate with them, but had only managed to send a small databurst through to the communication centre. He contacted Blaster through the comm. lines.

"Wa's up mech?" Blaster asked as he answered his comm., his easy-going nature carried along with his greeting.

"Sir, have you received any transmissions from our field team?" Codebreaker asked quickly.

"Field team? Which one? Be a bit more specific to a mech and give me a code to work with." Blaster replied.

Codebreaker cursed himself for forgetting the slagging code. "Code EP65B.O.T." He waited impatiently for Blaster as the other mech searched for the information.

"I've got no transmissions listed." Blaster replied. "Were they supposed to report in?"

"No, sir, I'm just checking." Codebreaker said, slightly irritated at the dead end. "Thank-you sir" he said to Blaster and cut the communication. His next option was to track the ship using the tracking codes, but for that he would need the mainframe. He watched Prowl's office, contemplating if the mech inside would agree to use the mainframe to track the ship. Codebreaker smiled slightly. This might be the chance he had been waiting for. Codebreaker gathered the data but halted as his private comm. line beeped with an urgent encrypted message. He quickly accessed the message.

:: _**RED3***__::_

Codebreaker froze. He nervously glanced behind him at Prowl's closed office door then at the empty tactical room and stood. Locking his console he quietly headed towards the black room where secure transmissions could be sent. He stopped at the door and prepared his datapad, mindful of watching security footage. It had to look right. He entered his authorisation codes and stepped inside, the door automatically closing and bolting shut.

Inside the room was dark and cold with a single console at the back, its green lights throwing ominous shadows that blinked at him on the dark walls.

Codebreaker headed towards the console and entered a secure key, encoding and hiding his transmission from prying optics and paranoid mechs. The console flickered twice as connection was established, but no visual was displayed.

"Alert received. Situation?" He asked the console in a hushed voice.

_Situation: dangerous. New orders: execute plan immediately._

The console flickered once and communication was cut, leaving only the blinking green lights staring at the shocked form of Codebreaker. He knew the plan had been compromised, had been warned in a transmission sent two cycles ago. He had also been assured that it would be dealt with, so why was it so important all of a sudden. Then it clicked. _Jazz._ Somehow he had learned of the plan.

Suddenly Codebreaker wished that the decommissioned ship would crash. If Jazz knew, he was likely on his way back to Iacon already. Luckily Codebreaker knew, thanks to Blaster, that they hadn't managed to contact Iacon base yet, but it didn't mean that they couldn't. Codebreaker calculated the possible time he had available to himself to execute the plan. His first transmission with Soundwave had been two cycles prior, and the ship had tried to send a transmission through about a cycle ago. That meant that the ship would be here within the cycle if it held.

_Slag. _He rubbed a hand over his face, running his processor through various scenarios and calculating risks. He had to act immediately.

He dropped his hands and accessed the console, deleting the evidence of the transmission before turning and leaving the room. Once outside he sat as his console again, running strategies through. A plan started forming, one better than the previous. He smiled deviously.

He had to go see Jumpstart _now._

(Break)

"Can't this ship fly faster?" Jazz asked exasperated.

"Hey, I'm trying my best just to keep us in the air!" Sideswipe retorted, looking anxiously at Jazz.

"An' communication? Have ya tried reachin Iacon again?" Jazz said, reaching for the transmitter as he sat next to Sideswipe in the cockpit.

"We're still out. I've tried sending transmissions for the past cycle, but it's deader than the Decepticon Sunny dismembered last fight." Sideswipe said as he slapped the console. He looked at Jazz worriedly. "We're nearly there. We ought to see Iacon soon."

Jazz sighed as he sat back in his chair. "We might be too late already." He said quietly as he stared out at the horizon, his processor racing with worry. If the Combaticons had notified their spy, he might get away before they could catch him. Worse was that Prowl was somehow involved in this. If anything happened to Prowl...Jazz shook his head and looked at the console. "Ya sure ya can't get anything more out of this lady?"

Sideswipe stared in front of him then reached for a lever and gently inched it back. The ship shuddered slightly as she tried to increase her speed before her engines started whining. Sideswipe pushed the lever forward again until the shuddering stopped. "Sorry Jazz. We'll just need to hope that nothing happens till we get there." Sideswipe apologised softly.

Jazz stared out the cockpit at the lights of Iacon rising on the horizon. _Prowl watch yer slagging back._ He thought as he resigned himself to the inevitable wait.

(Break)

Jumpstart glanced at the medbay doors as they slid open to allow Codebreaker to enter. He was carrying two cubes of energon as he sauntered over to Jumpstart, a Cheshire cat grin plastered over his face.

Jumpstart nervously placed his medical equipment in the correct drawers, lingering on the laser scalpel. _Maybe..._he quickly placed it in the drawer and locked it. He turned, tension lacing his frame as he stared at Codebreaker's warm optics. "You're early." He forced himself to say in as pleasant a voice as he could muster. _Relax._ He told himself.

Codebreaker shrugged and handed him the energon. "My shift ended early. Thought I'd come over. Is Ratchet here?" he asked as he turned and looked around the medbay, taking a sip of his energon.

Jumpstart stared at the energon and placed it on the table next to him. "Uhm, no. He's not on duty at the moment." Jumpstart said, nervousness clutching at his tanks. _I'll be fine_ he told himself as he thought about the Neto-Anectine in his subspace.

"So we are alone." Codebreaker said as he smiled at Jumpstart. It was more a statement than a question, yet Jumpstart thought he saw a glint in Codebreaker's optics.

Jumpstart smiled tensely. "We are never alone." He said and walked towards Ratchet's office, keeping his optic on Codebreaker.

Codebreaker followed Jumpstart towards Ratchet's office, quietly enabling his jamming device. It would be best if Jumpstart was unable to use his comm. line to call for help.

Jumpstart stopped at Ratchet's office and keyed in the code. He motioned Codebreaker to enter and walked in behind him, taking the shot from subspace and hiding it in his hand. "What do you want Codebreaker?" He asked as the doors closed. He glanced at the doors and briefly wondered if it was a good idea to be stuck with Codebreaker in a small, restricted space. Yet he banished those thoughts. _I've no evidence, I'm over-reacting. He wouldn't try anything in here, and if he does, I'm ready_. He thought as he waited for Codebreaker to answer him.

Codebreaker leaned back against Ratchet's desk and took a sip of his energon. "I've already told you. I want to chat. One Tyger Paxian to another. It gets lonely here with all the Iaconians." Codebreaker said.

"Yet you are a Praxian. And you work with other Praxians." Jumpstart said as he leaned against the closed door, hands behind his back. "You come from the same cultural group."

Codebreaker laughed softly and lifted his energon cube in mock salute. "Yes I am. Talking of Praxians, how's Prowl doing? I'm worried about him. Especially after this morning. He seems to be freezing a lot more lately." Codebreaker asked as he took another sip of his energon.

Jumpstart stiffened. "Prowl is a senior officer and a medical patient. I am not authorised to give information and you" he said pointing a finger at Codebreaker, "are not authorised to receive any." He pushed himself away from the door and turned to face it. "If you are here to discuss Prowl then I suggest you leave as I will not give you any information." He started typing the code into the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Codebreaker said softly just above his audio, warm air from his vents caressing Jumpstart's frame like the soft touches of an abusive lover.

His cold tone froze Jumpstart's hand above the next key and sent icy rivers of fear racing through his frame._ When did he get so close? _He thought and forced the fear that well up inside of him down. "Why not?" Jumpstart whispered back, slowly turning his head to look at the Praxian, his face inches away from the cold, calculating optics.

Codebreaker smiled slyly and gently took Jumpstart's hand away from the keypad. "Because I require the information that I know you have." He whispered back as he took hold of Jumpstart's chin and turned him towards himself.

Jumpstart remained frozen at Codebreaker's touch, his processor screaming at him to do something, anything to create distance between them, to get away from him, to defend himself. "I can't" he mumbled as he stood helplessly staring at Codebreaker, somehow mesmerized by the glacial blue of his optics. Jumpstart's hand automatically tightened over the syringe, clutching it like a talisman against evil.

Codebreaker slightly lifted Jumpstart's chin and moved even closer. "Why isn't the virus taking effect?" he whispered soothingly as if talking to a frightened youngling, "what's stopping it?"

Jumpstarts optics widened as his fears were confirmed. He desperately tried to comm Ratchet, but his comm. line refused to establish a connection. He drew his arm back and readied the syringe.

"Having problems with the comm. lines?" Codebreaker asked sweetly, his grin spreading. "You understand that I wanted some _private_ time with you. I can't let our time together be interrupted by unwelcome intruders." He said as he rubbed a finger down Jumpstart's cheek.

Codebreaker suddenly lurched back as Jumpstart's hand missed his neck by mere inches. Recovering quickly from his surprise, he grabbed Jumpstart's wrist and twisted.

Jumpstart cried out in pain as he dropped the syringe and was flung back against the wall. Strong hands grabbed him and threw him onto the floor, pinning his arms behind his back. He groaned in pain as a knee was driven into his back, keeping him from getting up.

"That was quite unexpected. Didn't think you had it in you." Codebreaker snarled at him as he reached for the syringe. "Care to tell me exactly what this was for?" he asked as he lifted the syringe and observed its transparent contents.

Jumpstart desperately fought to get the taller, heavier Praxian off of him, trying at the same time to comm. Ratchet. He had to fight, to get away. He had to warn somebody of the traitor before it was too late.

Codebreaker drove his knee harder into the young medic's back, stilling his movements. "Now, before we see what this liquid does, answer my questions. What is blocking the virus in Prowl's systems and how do I get around it?" he asked harshly.

Jumpstart clenched his mouth and shuttered his optics, furiously shaking his head. Surely somebody must be hearing the commotion inside? He just had to hold on a little longer.

Codebreaker sighed as he readied the syringe. "You know, Jumpstart, it's a real pity you don't want to cooperate. I think we would have gotten on well together. We are both viral experts, we both come from Tyger Pax, we both take our jobs very seriously."

"Don't compare us!" Jumpstart spat as he struggled once more. He longingly looked at the door, hoping against all odds that his mentor or anybody would come through that door any click and stop this treacherous spy.

"It speaks." Codebreaker laughed mockingly. "But not what I want it to speak. Jumpstart, I don't think you grasp the severity of the situation we are both in. If I do not give my superiors what they want, I will die. If you do not give me what I want, then you will die. It's really simple. Now, I will ask you one last time. What is blocking the virus?" Codebreaker asked in a voice of steel, his knee boring into the medic's back as he readied the syringe.

Jumpstart shook his head, stubbornly refusing to divulge the information he knew would be raped from his mind anyway the moment he fell off-line. But he was a medic. An Autobot medic. He would not betray his patients, his people, especially not to a traitor. "I would rather die." he whispered brokenly.

Codebreaker sighed heavily. "I thought so. It is unfortunate, but inevitable." Codebreaker said and grabbed Jumpstart's arm, forcing it back as he slipped the needle point into an energon line. Jumpstart gave a cry of pain as the searing liquid shot through his lines, burning him as it spread through his entire frame, slowing his systems until he stopped struggling. The world slowly became a blur of shadows that blended together and slowly sank into darkness.

Codebreaker released Jumpstart who limply lay on the floor and opened his medical port. He leisurely inserted his cable and accessed Jumpstart's processor, quickly overcoming the weak firewall that surrounded the data. He smiled as he found the file he was looking for and downloaded it into his own system. He then searched the memory banks and deleted the files containing their brief interlude before terminating the connection.

"I must sincerely thank you for this valuable information, without which I would never be able to succeed in my mission." He sighed as he shifted Jumpstart's limp frame into a sitting position, leaning him against the wall. "Such a shame that you chose to commit suicide. I'm sure Ratchet would be devastated." He said as he positioned the syringe in Jumpstart's hand and placed it over his arm, making it appear as if Jumpstart had injected himself. "You know you really should have talked to someone about your issues. Maybe you should have talked to Smokescreen. He seems like such a nice bot." He said as he patted Jumpstart's head. Stepping back he observed his handy work. Satisfied, he nodded his head and exited the office, leaving the door closed, but unlocked.

Once outside, he accessed Prowl's file. His optics narrowed as he found the cause of all his problems. _The slagging battle computer_. It was building counter-measures against the virus, as the virus was meant to infiltrate the logic centre and become part of it, inserting it into his coding so that it would be identified as a part of Prowl's hardware. Codebreaker frowned. He had not been aware that Prowl's battle computer and logic centre conflicted with each other. He had to fool the battle computer into believing the virus to be friendly before it would fully integrate with Prowl's systems. He smiled as he created the necessary codes to enable the integration.

It was time to incorporate phase two of his plan.

(break)

"Sir!" Codebreaker said as he entered Prowl's office, "I think I've found something."

Prowl looked up to see Codebreaker standing in front of his desk, wings held high and optics bright. "What is it?" He asked quickly.

"It appears that the team might have landed in trouble. I was able to identify an emergency databurst sent from them before all communication was lost."

"What does this databurst contain?" Prowl asked as he got up, his spark clenched at the thought that Jazz was in trouble, or worse.

"I can't decode it, it's written in alpha coding. The only way to decode it is through the mainframe. Teletraan I would be able to decode it and give the team's location within clicks." Codebreaker said, desperation bleeding through his voice.

Prowl stilled. Accessing Teletraan I and using it to decode the transmission would be the fastest, yet..."Try decoding it without Teletraan. You are a specialist code-writer and you have the ability to decode alpha coding. I will assign two more code-writers to assist you." Prowl said and moved towards his console to assign them.

Codebreaker placed his hands on Prowl's desk and leaned forward. "Sir, we don't have time. The emergency burst was sent more than a cycle ago. If their ship went down due to enemy fire or if enemies were within the vicinity, we can't afford to lose any more time trying to decode alpha coding." He pleaded.

Prowl paused briefly from selecting the necessary files.

Codebreaker saw him hesitate and decided to push on. He needed Prowl to access the mainframe, and it had not escaped his notice as to how close the second- and third-in-command were to each other. "Sir, if the Decepticon's should find them before we do or if they already have them it is paramount for us to retrieve them. Officer Jazz has valuable intel that would be deadly to us if the Decepticons were to capture him and retrieve it, and we don't know if he is in a state capable of defending the information."

Prowl's optics hardened as his battle computer calculated the risks involved if the intel Jazz carried were to be discovered. He grimaced inwardly at the possibilities. Yet Jazz was a capable mech and had gotten himself out of many difficult situations before without their help and without divulging damaging information. Surely he would be able to do it again. Prowl's spark clenched tighter at the thought of Jazz in Decepticon clutches, information being tortured out of him. A slow ache started developing at the back of his processor and he immediately halted all thought.

Codebreaker watched Prowl's internal struggle like a hungry beast watched its prey. _Come on_. He didn't know how much time he had left to implement the plan and he didn't know how long it would be before Jumpstart's frame would be discovered. "Sir, you are the only one with access to Teletraan I." He reminded Prowl, "I only require one breem for decoding the databurst." He prompted.

Prowl stared at his console for a moment longer before giving a curt nod. "Very well, come with me." He said and stood, motioning for Codebreaker to follow him.

Codebreaker grinned devilishly as Prowl walked ahead of him. Soon his mission would be completed, and as a bonus, the Autobot's would be without their second-in-command.

(break)

"We're nearing Iacon's auto defences. You have any idea how to get past them without radio communication?" Sideswipe asked nervously as he saw Iacon's automatic defence systems come online.

Jazz sat quietly and stared at the defence systems. "Ah can try to connect to 'em through short-burst transmissions and de-activate 'em with mah authorisation codes, only problem is that they'll automatically notify Iacon of their deactivation and our presence. If they try to contact us and fail, they might send a welcoming party that ain't so welcoming." Jazz said as he prepared a short-burst transmission.

The automatic defence systems hummed to life as the little ship came limping closer, their nozzles heating to a fiery red as they locked onto the little ship.

"Uh, Jazz, you might want to send that databurst right about now." Sideswipe said nervously as he prepared for evasive manoeuvres.

The automatic systems slowly powered down as they allowed the little ship to falter past them, shuddering as she entered the green zone.

"Well, Ah'm glad that worked. We'll probably see the welcoming party in a few clicks." Jazz said happily as he settled back in his chair.

"Yeah, let's just hope they plan on welcoming us back and not on welcoming us with friendly fire." Sideswipe mumbled as they continued flying towards the now distinguishable Iacon base.

(break)

Prowl entered his authorisation codes into the heavily sealed security hub and patiently waited for Red Alert to acknowledge him. Behind him, Codebreaker surveyed the hall. It was empty except for them. That was good.

The heavy-cast security doors slid open as alarms de-activated, allowing the Second-in-command to enter with Codebreaker on his heels. The doors slid closed and bolts fell into place once they were inside.

Codebreaker took in his surroundings. This was his first time inside the sacred security hub, home of the Autobot's valued Teletraan I mainframe. The room was small, just large enough for about four mechs to move in comfortably.

"Prowl, I hope you have a good reason to be here? This room should not be breached unless absolutely necessary." Red Alert told Prowl, but his gaze kept flicking back and forth between Prowl and Codebreaker.

Codebreaker tried to look as harmless as possible to the paranoid mech until Red Alert turned his attention back to Prowl. He couldn't let Red Alert trigger the alarms, it would mean the end of his mission and in most probability himself as well. He glanced around. For once it appeared as if Officer Red Alert's body guard, Inferno, was not present. _Perfect._ Codebreaker narrowed his optics as a sly smile played around his lips. This was going to be easier than he thought. He shifted his position so that he was standing behind Red Alert and silently activated his weapon.

(break)

"You can count your fraggin lucky stars that they didn't shoot us down." Sideswipe mumbled to Jazz as he prepared to land their shuttle.

Jazz ignored his comment and swung into the back hold. He knelt besides Track's and placed his hand on his shoulder. "A medic will be here shortly to check on ya. Ah need to head out as soon as this thing lands." He said and gave Track's shoulder a small pat.

"As long as they get the paint job back to what it was I'm fine with anything." Tracks said through gritted denta and gave a small, brave smile to Jazz.

Jazz returned the smile and went to the hatch, unlatching it as they came closer to the landing pad. The click the shuttle settled into her final landing position, Jazz flung the hatch open and through himself out, transformed and raced towards the tactical division.

(break)

Prowl turned towards Teletraan I, hesitating slightly before inserting his authentication codes.

_Teletraan I: access granted_

The computer stated and Codebreaker smiled. They were in. Now all Prowl had to do was connect his hardline to Teletraan I and the virus would do the rest.

"Prowl, it appears that Jazz is back." Red Alert said pointing to a monitor screen as Codebreaker's thoughts shattered. _Jazz back? Frag. _Codebreaker silently armed his weapon behind his back. He would have preferred doing this differently, but he was too close to success to pull back now.

Prowl swung round to the screen Red Alert was pointing to and sagged in relief as he saw Jazz's unmistakable alt mode racing down the corridors. "It appears we do not need to access the mainframe anymore Codebreaker. We will return to the tactical division at once." Prowl said and turned back towards Teletraan I, preparing to log out.

"On the contrary, sir, I think it's necessary." Codebreaker said quietly. He lifted his weapon and fired.


	12. Chapter 12

My sincerest thanks to all those who reviewed… iNsAnE nO bAkA (especially), Golden Eagle 603, Aurrawings, Autobot Chromia, HorseLover314, zrexheartz, EmperialGem21, AranelPilin, Guest, and Sideslip.

Last chapter for "I'll Be There" enjoy…

* * *

I'll Be There 12

Ratchet burst through the medbay doors, an unconscious Tracks on a gurney just beside him. "Hook him up to that IV and monitor his vitals!" He bellowed at one of the assisting medics.

"Jumpstart!" He hollered as he began scanning the wounds inflicted by the conflict. Satisfied that the scans showed the Neutral to be stable, he peered up, irritated that Jumpstart had not yet joined them. "Jumpstart!" He shouted again as he looked across the bay. He silently growled to himself as he pried the Neutral's armour off to look at the damage the shot had inflicted. Thankfully the damage wasn't too severe.

Ratchet looked up at one of the assistants. "You" he pointed at the visored assistant to his left, "Go fetch B2 wiring and C1 tubing." He quickly grabbed his clippers and clipped the energon tubes above and below the damaged sections to cut of energon flow before using his cutters to remove the damaged tubing. The assistant medic he sent came back with the tubing and dutifully placed it on the rack next to Ratchet. Ratchet nodded at him and took the tubing, carefully cutting the amount he needed and replacing the tubing within Tracks before gently sealing it and releasing the clips.

Ratchet glanced around again and grunted when he noticed Jumpstart still hadn't joined him. He looked up again at the assistant medic who had fetched the tubing. "Find Jumpstart, the medic on duty." He barked before moving on to the next piece of tubing, replacing where needed and sealing where possible. He was almost done when his comm. went off. Grudgingly he acknowledged it when he noticed the medical frequency.

::Sir! I found Jumpstart! He's unconscious and his vitals are in the red!::

Ratchet swore loudly as he placed the tool he was busy with on the table and used the sucker to drain away excess fluids that had leaked during the repairs.

::Where is he?:: Ratchet demanded as he took up another tool and started replacing wiring that urgently needed his attention. The rest he would leave for later.

::In your office, Sir.:: the assistant replied, worry bleeding through his voice.

::If possible, move him to a berth and get back here.:: Ratchet ordered as he finished the last of the crucial repairs. Less than a breem later the young assistant raced into the surgical unit.

"Sir, I've hooked him to life support, but not IV. It seems to be a drug of some sorts, self-inflicted. I set diagnostic scans to run before I came here." The young bot said, worry lacing his voice as he hurried to assist Ratchet.

"Good. What's your name?" Ratchet said as he quickly replaced the tools.

"First Aid, Sir." The assistant said as he moved to Track's other side and started repairing.

"Continue here, I've asked a senior medic to come assist you. Will you be able to perform this surgery?" Ratchet asked as he prepared to leave, worried for Jumpstart, but also unwilling to leave a patient behind, even when he knew his patient to be out of immediate danger and stable.

"Yes Sir, I am capable." First Aid responded gently as he continued working.

Ratchet nodded briskly in acknowledgement, and then ran towards Jumpstart's berth. As soon as he got there, the scanners beeped, indicating their completion of the scans. Ratchet checked Jumpstart's vitals again and swore loudly as he grabbed an IV line and hooked Jumpstart up. He turned towards the scan results. "What..." he whispered disbelievingly as he saw the drug responsible for his student's condition.

Ratchet raced towards the storage closet and went straight to the anaesthetics. Drawing out the Neto-Anectine vile, he let out another barrage of colourful Cybertronian curses. He darted to the shelf holding reversal agents, frantically searching for the only drug he knew would be able to save the young medic's life. _Flumazenil, no, Bupenorphine, no, Naloxone!_ Ratchet grabbed the Naloxone vial and ran back to Jumpstart's berth, calculating the amount he would need to administer and praying to Primus that it wasn't too late yet.

Ratchet drew the amount needed and injected it straight into Jumpstart's main energon line. Within a breem, Jumpstart's energon pressure started rising and his ventilation deepened. Not fully satisfied with the results, Ratchet set the alerts on the machines and thought about First Aid's words. _Self-administered my fragging aft!_. His apprentice might have been nervous to a fault, but he was not inclined to kill himself. Ratchet replayed their last conversation, remembering Jumpstart's nervousness about the other mech. Could there have been more to it than just nervousness towards an unfamiliar mech? He snarled. Codebreaker might have done something to his medic, and nobody touched Ratchet's patients, or his staff.

A dangerous glint settled in Ratchet's optics. If he discovered that Codebreaker had in any way been part of this, that mech would suffer. But first he needed to determine if Codebreaker had been involved. He opened his comm. line to Red Alert and waited for the paranoid mech to respond. If Codebreaker had done anything suspicious, Red would have caught it on tape.

Ratchet frowned as the comm. failed to establish a connection. "What the frag is going on here." He growled as he tried again, his suspicions rising along with a foreboding feeling in his spark. When he failed yet again to establish a connection with Red Alert he tried connecting to Prowl, but the same dead silence was all that greeted him. Shaking his head, he opened a comm. line to Jazz, hoping, no praying, that the mech would answer given how frantic he was when they disembarked from the ship.

::Ratch Ah'm kinda busy right now!:: Jazz spat into the comm. line, his usual pleasant voice had a sense of urgency and worry to it that immediately confirmed Ratchet's fears.

::I can't get a hold of Red Alert or Prowl and one of my medics has been assaulted.:: He cut to the chase, ::What is going on?::

::Which medic?:: Jazz barked.

::Jumpstart.:: Ratchet replied as he checked the vitals again. The meds weren't working as fast as they should be and he couldn't risk injecting him with more.

::Frag! Can he talk? Do you know who did this to him?:: Jazz asked frantically.

::No, he is fighting for his life at the moment, and seeing how sluggish his systems are responding, I can't guarantee that he'll pull through. Howevenr, I know he and Codebreaker were planning on meeting each other after shift. Jump' seemed pretty nervous about it.:: Ratchet said as he paced around Jumpstarts berth and checked his energon pressure. Still not enough improvement.

::Codebreaker? Slag it to the Pit! Alert the base of Decepticon infiltration! Ah'm headin to the security hub!:: Jazz shouted and cut the comm. transmission.

Ratchet immediately opened a link to Optimus Prime. He was the only bot that could raise the alarms and alert the base to Defcon level one, seeing as neither the security director or the SIC were responding.

::Yes Ratchet?:: Optimus's calm baritone voice sounded over the comm. line.

::We have a breach in security. Activate Devcon one. Jazz is on his way to the security hub.:: Ratchet stated quickly.

::Understood.:: Optimus replied solemnly and cut the connection.

There was silence for a click before the base went into total lockdown, emergency lighting casting a red glow over the interior while a piercing alarm sounded to indicate the threat level.

Ratchet sighed and looked down at the prone form of Jumpstart shaking his head. The realization of the danger they were all in unsettled and infuriated him at the same time. And yet he could do nothing except wait.

(Break)

Jazz cursed inwardly as he raced towards the security hub. Prowl was neither in his office nor his quarters, and with the tip-off Ratchet just gave he would bet that the SIC was in the security hub with Red Alert. What bothered him was that neither was answering their comms, and Codebreaker was nowhere to be found.

Jazz's anger flared as he thought of the traitor and the various ways of dispatching him, but above his anger rose his concern for Prowl. Was Prowl hurt, or threatened, or worse, deactivated. Jazz cut his thoughts off and refused to think of Prowl as deactivated. Prowl was no weakling. He could take care of himself.

Jazz rounded a corner and collided into Inferno's back, causing both to stumble to the ground in a pathetic heap. Inferno came to a rest on top of Jazz, pinning the smaller mech to the ground.

"Now that was interestin'!" Inferno exclaimed playfully. Jazz didn't respond to Inferno, but instead started to frantically scramble to get out from underneath Inferno. Inferno rolled to the side and watched Jazz jump to his feet and take off running again, leaving him gaping after him.

"What on Cybertron has gotten..." Inferno started to say just as the alarms sounded and the base went into lockdown. Without thinking he jumped up and raced towards the security hub, determined to get to Red Alert. Red Alert was paranoid, but he would never raise an alarm to Defcon level one unless absolutely sure of an intruder.

Jazz stopped before the security hub's doors and entered his codes.

ACCESS DENIED

He cursed as he re-entered his codes, then his override codes, only to be betrayed by the same message. "Frag ya!" he shouted as he slammed his fist into the controls. Time was running out and he couldn't get access to the control room. By now Jazz held no doubt that something was amiss within the security hub.

::Ratchet! We got a breach in the security hub. Ah'm not sure, but we might need your medical assistance once we get in.:: He waited for a reply, but received none. _Frag, probably usin' a jammin' device or somethin'._ He thought dismally as he inserted his cable into the lock, determined to hack his way in.

Inferno joined him a few clicks later. "Jazz, what's going on? The entire base's in lockdown." He looked worriedly at the locked door and tried to comm. Red without success. "Jazz can ya comm. Red? Ah ain't getting though to him." The frontliner's face contorted into worry as he glanced back at Jazz.

Jazz shook his head briefly and focused again on the hack. Whoever did this, and he would lay creds the culprit being Codebreaker, knew what he was doing. It might take a while, but he _would_ reach Prowl, he only hoped that he reached him in time.

(Break)

Prowl glared at Codebreaker, hands held up and doorwings flared angrily behind him as he contemplated the traitor. He quickly allowed his optics to flicker to Red Alert, who lay groaning on the floor in a slowly spreading pool of energon, a blaster pointed at his chest.

"Now that I've got your attention _Commander _Prowl, you are going to do as I tell you, or else, Red Alert here is going to suffer a slow, agonizing death. Now, do I have your cooperation?" Codebreaker demanded icily, his cold optics never leaving Prowl.

Prowl remained deadly silent, secretly raging at Codebreaker while furiously analysing the best course of action. He inwardly grimaced as all the results of possible courses of actions had a very low survival rate for Red Alert or himself.

Codebreaker's blaster whined as it charged. "I will ask you one more time, do I have your cooperation?" He demanded again, a dangerous note creeping through the threat.

Prowl considered the possible plans and gave a curt nod as he narrowed his optics. For now, he will cooperate.

"Good." Codebreaker reached into his subspace with one hand and drew out a datachip. "Insert that into your medport." He said tossing the small datachip at Prowl.

Prowl caught it and casually glanced at it before returning his icy gaze on Codebreaker, defiance in his stance.

Codebreaker raised an optic ridge at Prowl. "Insert it, now, or I will shoot. His life means nothing to me and the amount he suffers means nothing to me. Don't test me on this." He seethed.

Prowl kept his fiery glare locked onto Codebreaker's as he opened his medical port and inserted the datachip. For a few clicks nothing happened as his systems automatically accessed the software and downloaded it, synchronising the programs with his systems. Prowl grimaced and lifted a hand to his helm as sudden pain flared up in his battle computer.

Codebreaker smiled as he saw the effects of his program, satisfied that the coding will disable the battle computer's function. "Very good. Now access the mainframe."

Prowl glowered at him through hazy, pain-filled optics as he clenched his denta, refusing to move towards the mainframe. He would rather die than grant access to this traitor.

Codebreaker saw the determination in Prowl and growled. He had hoped it would be easier, but given the stubbornness of Prowl, well, that left him no choice but to do this the hard way. He pulled the trigger.

Red Alert cried out in pain as his body convulsed with the sudden onslaught of pain as the shot penetrated his left shoulder. He gritted his denta together as he reached for his shoulder, feebly trying to staunch the bleeding.

Prowl started forward but was halted by the sound of Codebreaker's charging blaster. "Access the mainframe Prowl, or I will shoot him again!"

Prowl stared at Red Alert before turning towards the mainframe. Torn between duty and the unnecessary suffering of a mech that had been his faithful friend for vorns, Prowl hesitated. Logic determined that he refuse, that the Autobot cause was more important than the life of any single mech, yet being an Autobot also meant valuing life above all, friend or not. Did he even have the right to choose?

"Don't...the Autobots..." Red Alert gasped brokenly from behind him, pain evident in his voice as he moaned, shuttering his optics.

Prowl tried to ignore him, tried to ignore his emotions as they conflicted within in. Surely Teletraan 1's firewalls were capable of resisting whatever it was Codebreaker had planned for it? If it didn't, the fail-safe's Red had installed ought to stop any malware from…

A hard thumping at the door interrupted his thoughts as Inferno's barely audible, but frantic voice drifted through the thick walls of the security hub, shouting for Red Alert.

"...Ferno..." Red Alert whined as his optics flickered and his head rolled towards the sound, his hand weakly reaching towards it.

Codebreaker cocked his head at the sound, but refused to break optic contact with Prowl. "Do it now. You know these doors are impenetrable and it will take joors to open it, so I have time to wait, he" he said indicating Red Alert with his blaster, "however, does not. So I suggest you do as I fragging tell you and access the mainframe!" Codebreaker spat, his agitation and frustration bubbling to the front.

Prowl turned back to the mainframe. He knew that if Inferno was outside, Jazz would also be there. And Jazz would no doubt be hacking the controls to the door. If he could stall somehow, the odds of both him and Red Alert surviving will rise significantly. "Why?" Prowl asked.

"Why? It's none of your business." Codebreaker hissed, trying to, but barely able to conceal his agitation. Things needed to speed up and Prowl needed to quit stalling.

"On the contrary, if I am about to die I might as well know 'why', and if I may point out that the chances of you walking out of here alive are less than 5%, I might as well enquire as to the reasons of your betrayal and the reason why access to the database is so important that you will sacrifice your life for it." Prowl said.

Codebreaker gave a nervous chuckle. "Oh Prowl, always so logical. Since you ask so nicely I will indulge you," his optics hardened as they bore into Prowl, "_After_ you have accessed the mainframe. Now this is your last chance before your friend here gets another hole in his frame."

Prowl stared at him for another click before turning to the mainframe. He slowly unravelled his cable and drew it towards Teletraan's port. He hesitated above the port. Should he do this? Should he endanger the entire Autobot army to save the life of one mech? _No._ His logic centre answered him. The mainframe was too valuable. He had no idea why he needed to access the mainframe. The datachip that had been given him only had two lines of coding in it, coding that synched certain software with his battle computer. He frowned as he tried to access his battle computer, disturbed that it was not responding to his requests.

Prowl heard Codebreaker's blaster wind up again in preparation to fire. Gritting his denta, he inserted his datacable into Teletraan 1's port.

Prowl cried out as a searing heat overtook his frame, causing him to grab at the desk to support him as his legs gave out underneath him. He shakingly leaned against the console. He vented harshly as his systems desperately tried to cool his soaring temperature. Warning signals popped up in his vision, alerting him to imminent stasis lock should he fail to regulate his temperature. But Prowl ignored it and focuses on one message warning him of program download into Teletraan 1's systems which was requesting authorization. Without his consent, authorization was granted by the coding inserted into his system and download commenced. Prowl gasped agonizingly as overbearing static noise filled his audios and clouded his processor, drowning out all awareness of his surroundings. Prowl tried to focus on the message displaying in his vision.

_47% download complete._

He had to stop the download. He tried moving his arms, but his motory systems were temporarily disabled. Prowl groaned as he tried to access his CPU and focus on his battle computer. It was painful to think, even more so to try and find the battle computer within the searing pain burning inside his processor.

_64% download complete._

Prowl winced as he finally reached his battle computer and enabled the backup configuration.

(Break)

Jazz yanked Inferno to the side as the doors slid open, barely dodging a laser shot aimed at them. Jazz released Inferno and crouched down, trying to analyse the situation before going in.

He drew his vents in harshly when he saw both Prowl and Red Alert off-line, one leaning awkwardly against a console while the other lay in a pool of his own fluids. Jazz's visor flared as he tried to gain control of his furious emotions. _Calm. Never attack in anger_. He told himself.

"Jazz? What's going on in there?" Inferno asked shakily as he crouched beside Jazz.

"Both Prowl an' Red are down. Go get Ratchet." Jazz answered with him without looking away from the situation, contemplating the speed with which he would have to move to get inside and behind cover without getting shot.

"I'm ain't gonna leave Red!" Inferno hissed back, shifting into attacking position behind Jazz.

"If we want to save them both, Ratchet is needed more at this stage than your back-up! Go." Jazz said with a deadly calm that belied the inner turmoil of his emotions. He listened absently as Inferno quickly retreated through the corridors on his way to the medbay. Venting deeply, he slipped into his deadly professional persona.

Calculating his speed, he launched at the entrance and rolled towards a console on his immediate right, taking cover just as blaster fire erupted around him.

"I'm impressed with your hacking skills Jazz. Thought I had a bit more time to properly dispose of your second and security chief." Codebreaker mocked him.

"Yeah, well, ya shoulda known not to underestimate me." Jazz quipped back, leaning slightly forward to be able to see Codebreaker's position before jerking back, narrowly missing another shot. _This bastard has good aim._ Jazz thought wryly as he charged his blaster. Codebreaker was taking cover behind a console at the opposite corner of the room. He would have to time his shots perfectly. "And besides, Ah ain't' gonna let you kill either of 'em. Finally figured the whole thing anyway. Yer after the mainframe so ya can have access t' all the bases. Good plan. Too bad the 'Cons chose an idiot to do it, otherwise they might actually have succeeded."

Codebreaker growled at Jazz. "Well, it doesn't really matter now, does it? I've achieved my primary objective of hacking the mainframe, and my secondary objective of taking out Prime's tactician is so to say complete."

Jazz spun around the console and fired, his aim perfect as it clipped the tip of Codebreaker's sensitive doorwings. Codebreaker cried out in pain as the oversensitive appendages sent errors messages through his visor.

Jazz took his cue and bolted across the room, slamming into Codebreaker before he had time to fire his blaster. The two mechs collided with the far wall, Jazz gaining the upper hand against his larger opponent while the latter struggled to gain his footing.

Jazz grabbed at the blaster still clutched in Codebreaker's servo. Codebreaker yanked his hand away and slammed his knee into Jazz's torso. Jazz buckled over at the impact, but twisted away to avoid the butt of the blaster as Codebreaker brought it down on his helm, managing in the same movement to lift his arm and grab Codebreaker's wrist in an iron grip. Jazz gave a quick, sharp twist and Codebreaker cried out in pain as a cable in his wrist severed, forcing him to drop the blaster and let it fall uselessly to the ground.

Codebreaker roared in fury as he redoubled his attack on Jazz. His wrist was throbbing in pain, but it wasn't completely disabled and he used his larger frame to press his advantage over the already tired Jazz. If he could take out two-thirds of the command with himself, the sacrifice would be worth the cause.

Jazz felt the change in the mech's attitude and fighting style and knew he wouldn't be able to last long in a fight, seeing as his energy levels were already dangerously low from his recent mission and this mech was obviously a master in the art of Diffusion. Jazz countered and counter-attacked his opponent with all the combined skills of his special ops training, keenly watching for a fault in the other mechs movements to allow him the gap he badly needed.

Codebreaker lunged at him, but as he twisted away Codebreaker suddenly changed tactics and hit him square on his sensory horn, crushing the sensitive appendage and causing Jazz to lose his balance. Jazz fell heavily to the ground, panting and groaning as he started up at his opponent. He silently and slowly unsubspaced his prized dagger, keeping his optics locked on Codebreaker's.

Codebreaker stood over him, venting heavily. Nodding his head tiredly, a murderous glint in his optics, he aimed his blaster at Jazz's spark. "Quite a fight you put up. Too bad I'm just bet…"

The explosive sound of blaster fire reverberated throughout the room as Codebreaker clutched at his chest, small holes lined with acid and leaking energon littered across his chest. His optics flickered up to see Prowl, clutching his acid pellet gun, stare blankly at him. Jazz took his chance and launched up, embedding his dagger straight through Codebreaker's sparkchamber. Codebreaker gasped as his optics widened and locked onto Jazz's visor. They flickered once more before going dark, his frame falling into a pathetic heap at Jazz's peds.

The sound of a blaster dropping had Jazz whirling around. "Prowl!" Jazz gasped as the tactician slumped back against the console.

Jazz skidded to a halt on his knees next to Prowl and clutched his face. "Prowl! Can ya hear me? Talk to meh!" he panted as he desperately caressed Prowl's cheeks with trembling hands. Prowl's optics finally flickered online as he stared at Jazz. Jazz vented in relief as he pressed his forehead against Prowl's.

"Red…" Prowl whispered as his gaze flicked past Jazz at the disturbingly still form of his friend. Jazz nodded and spun around, leaving Prowl to check on the unconscious mech. Just as he bent down, he heard Inferno and Ratchet crouch outside the door.

"Coast is clear! Ratch get in here!" Jazz shouted as he checked Red Alert's vitals. The mech was still alive, but in dangerous need of fluids. Ratchet and Inferno crouched down next to him and Jazz stood up, giving them space while at the same time enabling him to get back to Prowl.

Prowl grabbed Jazz's wrist weakly before he could bend down. "Teletraan..may have been…compromised. Virus. Managed to…counter…download, but…" Prowl breathed laboriously, before dropping his head back against the console and shuttering his optics, tiredness seeping throughout his frame.

Jazz swore and reached for his datacable, connecting to Teletraan 1. He cast one last glance at Prowl as an unknown, visored medical assistant bent down next to him before focusing on Teletraan 1.

(Break)

Prowl's sluggish systems slowly came online to him staring at the familiar walls of Ratchet's lair. He briefly felt annoyance at once again being in the medical centre for the umpteenth time in a decacycle.

A light brush against his arm brought his attention back to his present surroundings as he moved his head to stare into Jazz's worried face.

"Welcom' back to the world of the livin." Jazz joked, his voice gentle as he regarded Prowl.

"Thank-you." Prowl said as he relaxed into the touch. "It feels remarkably good to be back."

Jazz smiled at Prowl and ducked his head in agreement. "Ah believe ya Prowler. Ya had me worried there for a moment."

"Prowl," he corrected, "And I can say the same about you."

"Aw, ya were worried about me, Prowler? Remind me to soothe all yer worries away later." Jazz flashed him a mischievous grin while leaning closer to Prowl.

Prowl raised his optic ridge at Jazz, staring at their close proximity and feeling slightly uncomfortable, Smokescreen's words still nagging at the back of his processor. Prowl smiled slightly before saying softly. "I may take you up on that offer some time." Jazz purred and leaned closer, but Prowl moved his head away. "But first I want a full brief of the situation."

Jazz flopped back in his chair and shook his head disbelievingly at Prowl. "Ya just woke up and yer thinkin' bout work?" he asked, flapping his hand listlessly to indicate the medbay.

"Of course, I am second in command and it is my duty to analyse threats and present countermeasures where needs be. Firstly, is Red Alert, is he alright?" Prowl asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

Jazz nodded his head in confirmation. He'll indulge Prowler for now, but later he was going to steer things back to more enjoyable subjects, whether Prowl was avoiding the subject or not. "He came out of surgery a couple of breems ago. He lost a lot of fluids and some wiring and tubing had to be replaced, but no life-threatening damage was done. Ratch says he can count himself lucky. Ferno's with him now."

Prowl nodded, tension seeping out of his frame. "That is a relief to know. Did the virus penetrate the mainframe? Has the bases been notified of the possible dangers?"

"Yeah, the virus was isolated by some 'abnormal coding' our paranoid security director installed, without our knowledge if Ah may add. Not that Ah'm ungrateful, but it does give a nasty shock to a mechs systems when he attempts to isolate the virus manually." Jazz said as he rubbed a servo over his scorched port.

Prowl glanced down at Jazz's servo as it remained over his port. "My apologies, I should have informed you about the countermeasures installed by Red Alert four orns ago."

Jazz dropped his servo and gave Prowl an annoyed look. "Yeah that might have helped. But it doesn't matter now. Virus has been isolated and is in Percy's lab, undergoing examination and none of the bases have reported any activity in the database, so it appears we're good." Jazz said. "Virus is outta yer systems too." He added softly.

Prowl said nothing as he lay staring at the ceiling. His mind still reeled with the unexpected events. How could he have missed the obvious? How could he not see that the attacks had been diversions, part of a bigger plan. Worst of all, how could he not have realised it was Codebreaker? He grimaced slightly as the ache in his processor flared up again. Looking back, he remembered how the young tactician had always pushed him to connect to the mainframe, had begged him to allow him to work on the Neutral's case. And he had allowed it, without questioning. He would never make that mistake again.

Jazz's servo on his shoulder broke his pattern of thoughts and he on-lined his optics, only then realising he had off-lined them. "Ya ok?" Jazz asked him again.

"How could I not see it? My mistake could have cost us the war." Prowl admitted brokenly.

Jazz stood up, retracting his visor and leaned over Prowl, cupping his face and forcing Prowl to look straight at him. "Prowl, this ain't yer fault. Ah was blinded too and Ah'm head of special ops. So if anybot's t' blame it would be me. Codebreaker was a sleeper agent. Has been for vorns since the war started. He had a solid record. The only reason we got suspicious was cause of yer medic, Jumpstart, that had had dealings with him in Pax. Other than that, his records were cleaner than yours. So don't blame yerself for missin something all of us missed." Jazz ended as he kept Prowl's gaze.

Prowl sighed and slowly shuttered his optics before looking at Jazz again. "Thank-you." He whispered heart-feltedly as he reached up and took hold of Jazz's servos still cupping his face.

Jazz almost expected Prowl to remove his servos, but instead Prowl squeezed them gently before letting his servos just rest over Jazz's. Jazz smiled and pressed their foreheads together for the second time that orn, except now it was not out of fear for his friend's life, no it was something much deeper, at a level he could not yet fathom because he had never felt this depth before. Never felt the deep possessiveness and longing and contentment that saturated his entire being. Never felt the fear of loss and the satisfaction of having one he cared so deeply about so close. Even if Prowl did not share these feelings for him at the moment, he knew he would wait. He would be there for him until he was ready. "I"ll be there. Always." Jazz promised.

From the medbay's doors, a lone Praxian figure stood observing the rare show of emotion from his younger brother. Doorwings held high, he contemplated whether to disturb them or leave them be. He still hated the thought of Jazz being anywhere near Prowl outside of what duty determined, but he could not make Prowl's choice. No, he could warn Prowl, he could warn Jazz, but he could not make their decisions for them.

Smokescreen turned from the sight and meandered back towards the rec room, deep in thought. He would watch from the sideline, but he would not again tell Prowl whom he should court. _If Codebreaker had been closer to Prowl…_Smokescreen shook his head at the sickening thought and lifted a servo to wipe over his face. Prowl was safe. He was alive. And he had _Jazz_ to thank for that.

Smokescreen entered the rec room and instantly saw the brightly coloured red-and-orange mech sitting in a corner, blaring loud music over his speakers and talking animatedly with a fellow Autobot. Smokescreen bee-lined for him and came to a halt before the table, dragging a chair out and sitting down facing the mech with all the nonchalance of a mech who owned the place.

"Smokes! Welcome." Blaster said in his cheery voice. "Up for a game of cards?" He withdrew a small cube of highgrade and passed it on to the Praxian.

Smokescreen grinned at him and inclined his head before taking a sip of the crackling blue liquid. "Not going to say no. By the way, you owe me for the bet between Red and Inferno." Blaster opened his mouth to object, but Smokescreen raised a hand to stop him and smiled sweetly. "Now, about the odds of the other couple you mentioned…"

* * *

*Thank-you to all my readers, reviewers, 'favouritors', and followers for your support in the writing of this fiction. Without your support, this would not have been possible.

**I am considering doing a sequel to this fic, but this depends entirely on you. There are three ways to notify me of your choice, 1) through reviews, 2) through PMs, and 3) through the pole on my website. The pole will close 31 May. But depending on your response, I might begin writing sooner, providing the responses are mostly positive. **

I've already got an idea about the plot, however I am open to suggestions. If I get enough positive votes, I will name the story and provide a basic plot on my profile page.


	13. Chapter 13: Epilogue

Epilogue

Heavy footsteps echoed down the darkened corridors of the Decepticon stronghold as they headed to the Warlord's throne room.

The tall, imposing figure came to an abrupt halt as the heavy doors slid opened to reveal the Warlord in all his notorious glory as he sat brooding on his horned throne surrounded by the chatter of cackling and bawling lieutenants.

"What is it Soundwave?" the room instantly fell silent as his deep, ragged voice reverberated through the chamber, causing mechs to shift into the darkened corners and open the way for the much respected and much feared Third in Command.

Soundwave ignored the lieutenants and bravely strode towards the centre of the room to stand before the mighty silver mech on his elevated dais. Had he been able to quiver with fear at the news he knew his master would despise, he would have. As it was he hid his emotions behind his visor and raised his monotone voice.

"Mission: Infiltrate Autobot mainframe. Status: failed."

A heavy silence fell over the room as nervous mechs averted their optics and tried to hide from their Master's response. The braver few cautiously peeked at their lord's face, waiting for the inevitable outburst that could possibly mean the end of their pathetic existence.

Yet his outburst did not come from Warlord himself, but from a slender red and blue seeker, leaning arrogantly against his throne.

"Ha!" he screeched, "I knew this plan was doomed to fail, o my illustrious leader. Now if you had only listened to me, I..."

"SILENCE" Megatron roared as he slammed his fist onto his throne's elegant armrest.

The seeker abruptly fell silent as he glared at his lord, disdain coupled with a hint of defiance clear in his calculating optics.

"Soundwave, what of our operative?" Megatron growled softly, leaning back into his throne and fixing his hard glare on the figure in the centre of the room.

"Operative Codebreaker: deceased."

Another growl reverberated through the silent chamber.

"At least tell me he was able to dispatch of Prime's second?" Megatron demanded, his crimson optics narrowing dangerously as he thought of the hated tactician. It would be a devastating blow to the Autobots and an outstanding victory to the Decepticons if they could get rid of that, unfortunately, brilliant tactician.

"Negative Lord Megatron." Soundwave responded.

A roar ripped through the chamber as Megatron launched to his feet and paced his throne room like a furious beast, hands clenched as he snarled at his lieutenants in the room. The lieutenants backed even further into the walls, cowering in the darkness that shrouded them as they avoided the fierce stare of their lord and master, lest he turn his smouldering wrath on them.

Megatron finally came to a stop in front of Soundwave and vented loudly. Cocking his head he looked at his third in command and communications officer as he contemplated the diabolical scheme forming in his processor. "If memory serves me correct, Codebreaker was also a Praxian, the same as..._Prowl_." Megatron growled the last word out as if it left a bitter taste and turned to face Starscream, still arrogantly perched against his throne.

"Starscream!" He bellowed.

"Yes, o mighty Megatron?" Starscream sneered as he lazily canted his head to the side.

The Warlord barred his teeth as he glowered at his insolent lover, looking at him with piercing crimson optics, but at the same time through him to a macabre vision playing out before him. "It is time to show all Praxians and all of Cybertron the might and fury of the Decepticon army." He stated sinisterly and then started laughing, soft at fist and then louder. The lieutenants cast worried glances at each other and at their lord, unable to fathom what their lord might find so humoristic in the situation. So they waited in dreaded silence for their mighty leader to inform them _how_ they might show their power to the whole of Cybertron.

Starscream straightened and pushed off the throne, curiously eyeing his lord as he inched closer to the menacing, crowing figure. He knew enough about his abusive lover to know that this bode ill for the Autobots, and he revelled in the thought of showing their might, his might, to all of Cybertron, both Autobots and Neutrals alike. Let them quiver in their wake.

Megatron suddenly stopped laughing and focused on Starscream again, his crimson optics bright with the lust of imminent bloodshed.

"Praxus. Level it. Now."

* * *

My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and voted for the sequel. The sequel's name is "Shattered Crystals", and I will be posting the first chapter in a few hours. The main characters are: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, and Barricade.

Hope you enjoyed the story and thank you for all the support you gave me. You inspire me to keep improving my writing.

~Nikkie2010


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